


I'll Get It Right, This Time Around

by Fallenstar92



Series: We'll Make It Out Alive (Alternates/companions) [4]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Break Up, Debbie Bashing, EMT Ian Gallagher, Fix-It, Mpreg, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post Mpreg, Post-Season/Series 05, Prison, Reunions, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2020-12-27 08:29:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 26,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21115763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallenstar92/pseuds/Fallenstar92
Summary: Alternate take on the "We'll Make It Out Alive" series. Mickey knew Ian wasn't going to wait for him, but what is he supposed to do from a prison cell? How could he make Ian care about their child? And how could he live with himself when he was forced to give his child up?





	1. Easier Than Telling The Truth

**Author's Note:**

> I had a better idea than "Get Your Ass Back Home", so I deleted that and started working on this one. I hope you guys enjoy!

**Two Years Ago**

_"Yeah, Mick; I'll wait." _

Mickey knew Ian was lying, so he didn't say anything about the baby growing inside of him; the baby he and Ian had created when Ian still loved him. He couldn't have Ian thinking their child was some poorly veiled attempt to trap him in a relationship he was no longer happy in, and so he kept his mouth shut and watched the love of his life walk away, forever.

Ian felt like convincing Mickey he was lying was the best way to get Mickey to let him go; he was a ticking time bomb and he didn't want to trap Mickey in a relationship that would never give him the happy, healthy, family life Mickey tried to deny he wanted, but Ian knew better. He knew Mickey wanted to have children that actually belonged to him, someday-kids that Mickey carried and that he would love-and Ian didn't want to pass his fucked-up genes down to another generation. So, he let go of the man he loved and resigned himself to being unhappy for the rest of his days. It was better that way.

"You sure about this, Mickey?" Mandy asked her brother, staring into the lifeless blue eyes of the man before her. "I'll take care of the baby until you're out. Or we can call Ia-"

"If he wouldn't straighten his ass up for Carl and Debbie he ain't gonna do it for the kid." Mickey wasn't about to tell his sister he'd been writing Ian for weeks and Svetlana had paid him to visit; he couldn't tell her he'd written a letter practically fucking begging Ian to care that they had a child on the way. "He knows and he don't care. So yes, I'm fuckin' sure." Mickey sniffed, trying to fight back tears. "As far as the kid's gonna know, you're their Mom and I'm their fuck-up of an uncle."

"I'll start lookin' for a place in Chicago, then." Mandy replied, knowing it was killing her brother to give his child up, even if he knew he'd get to see them as often as he wanted. "I'll take good care of the baby, Mick." Mandy promised, knowing she would love her niece or nephew with all she had to give.

"I know." Mickey replied shakily, clearly hurt that this was the decision he'd been forced to make; while most people would be considering baby names, he had to choose to give the child he wanted more than anything in the world away, and that broke Mickey to a point nothing else had. But it was better this way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, make sure to leave comments to let me know what you thought of this chapter. Much love!


	2. Silence Has Never Been This Loud

**Present Day**

He had a boy; Mickey had given birth to a beautiful, chubby-cheeked, redheaded little boy with gorgeous blue eyes and the sweetest dimples Mickey had ever seen. Mandy had insisted that Mickey name his son, despite the fact that he would be raised as Mandy's child instead of his own, and he decided to name the baby Maxton Krew. Mickey had almost begged Mandy not to take him when the baby was placed on his chest, but he couldn't do that to Max; he couldn't make his child grow up in foster care until he was out of prison, considering he may not get out until Max turned fifteen. Because he couldn't be that selfish with Max, he handed him over to Mandy, silently begging her to love and care for him as her own child.

That was over a year ago, and Mickey was now a shell of the man he had been before his son's birth; he didn't talk much, he spent all of his time split between working out or reading-now that he had completed his GED testing it was for fun instead of studying-and had given up any hope of seeing Ian Clayton Gallagher ever again. Mickey was a broken man, and even the pictures Mandy constantly showed him of Max could get a smile out of him.

"So you just ignore guys when you get bored, now?" Fiona asked Ian, crossing her arms over her chest as Ian ignored another call from Caleb. The beginning of their relationship had been fun, but-after being cheated on several times with women and more than one STD scare-Ian was done with the man.

"He didn't tell me he was HIV positive until after we had sex the first time, fucks girls and says it's not cheatin' 'cause he's Bisexual, and I had to get tested five times 'cause who the Hell knows what he picked up from those whores; so yeah, I'm ignorin' him." Ian replied, lighting a cigarette as he sat up in his bed.

"You know, you had a ride or die guy, and you walked away from him." Fiona reminded Ian, knowing he still secretly missed Mickey.

"He hasn't tried to contact me in two years." Ian sighed, absent-mindedly scratching at the letter "M" he had tattooed over his heart. He'd used one of the unopened letters from Mickey to have the tattoo artist copy the man's sloppy penmanship.

"Maybe you should've opened those damn letters you keep stashed in your pillowcase and wrote the poor guy back." Fiona replied, watching Ian as he removed all three unopened envelopes from his pillowcase and cradle them protectively against his chest. "Look, this is the forth guy you've dated since Mickey and they've all been duds... Maybe you should go see him."

"He doesn't wanna see me... It's been too long." Ian whispered, his eyes locked on the envelope in his hands.

"Ssh... Ssh, Maxy... It's okay; Aunt Mandy's got you." Mandy shushed Max as she rocked the fevered baby in her arms. She knew Mickey wanted Max to grow up believing Mandy was his mother, but she couldn't do that to Max or Mickey; Mickey needed something to hold onto, and Max deserved to know that his father loves him enough that he didn't want Max growing up in the system. "Aunt Mandy just needs to make a phone call; she's gonna make sure you feel all better, baby." Mandy promised, her thumb frozen over Ian's name in her phone.

She knew Mickey would be pissed off but-having had people watching Ian for the last two years-Mandy knew he was an EMT and would know what to do for a sick baby. She just hoped this didn't blow up in her face.


	3. Mine

Ian was beyond shocked when he answered his phone-already a bit buzzed from drinking with Lip-to find a hysterical Mandy on the other end, begging him to come to her apartment and help her. He asked several times what it was she needed help with, but her only response was "please hurry, Ian" followed by quickly spouting off her address. That's how Ian found himself scrambling up the stairs of a historic walk-up with his EMT bag over his shoulder. "Thank God!" Mandy exclaimed, throwing her arms around Ian's neck as a baby wailed from the next room.

"Yeah, I got here as soon as I could. Why is there a cryin' baby, here?" Ian asked, looking around the living room at the scattered baby toys, baskets of clean laundry, and other items he never expected to see in the home of a Milkovich.

"My... My son's got a fever and my insurance is shit... I heard from some old friends on the Southside that you're an EMT and I thought you could help him." Mandy sighed as she lead Ian to the second bedroom where the baby was lying in his crib, bawling his eyes out. What caught Ian's attention the most-however-was the bright shock of red hair on the child's head.

"I'll do what I can, but I'm not a doctor, Mands." Ian warned, slowly walking over to the crib and scooping the baby up. "What's his name?"

"Maxton; Max, for short." Mandy said, chewing her bottom lip as Ian checked his temperature and bounced her nephew in his arms.

"Looks like he's just cuttin' a new tooth. You got any baby asprin?" Ian asked, eyes focused on the little boy resting against his chest.

"In the kitchen." Mandy replied, already running for the kitchen and cursing her own stupidity as she retrieved the bottle from the cabinet over her kitchen sink.

"He calmed down before he went to sleep." Ian whispered as he walked into the living room, spotting Mandy on the couch with freshly folded clothes on the coffee table in front of her.

"Thanks for gettin' him back to sleep... And for rushin' over here, even though you were drunk." Mandy replied numbly.

"Sorry about that; wasn't expectin' to leave the house." Ian said, sheepishly. "He looks a lot like Mick."

"Yeah, well, Mick and I look a lot alike." Mandy reasoned, but Ian saw straight through it.

"Yeah, but he's got Mick's nose, his lips, and his eyebrows; shit you don't have in common with Mickey. Sure, he's got the same eyes as you and Mickey, but... I don't know. He just looks a little too much like Mickey for me to brush it off." Ian said, plopping down beside Mandy. "And he's a redhead."

"You really drunk enough that you forgot three letters from the guy you claimed you were in love with." Mandy said bitterly.

"You mean these?" Ian asked, removing the unopened letters from his coat pocket. "I keep 'em with me. All the time."

"You didn't read 'em." Mandy muttered, slowly taking one of the letters out of Ian's hand.

"What do they say, Mandy?" Ian asked, forcing Mandy to look into his eyes. "I didn't wanna read Mickey lecturin' me like Fiona and Lip did before I got my shit together; it hurt a lot fuckin' more comin' from him than them... But I need to know if I'm just wishin' for somethin' that's not true. So, please, just tell me."

"Max is your son; yours and Mickey's. He found out just after he went to prison. Those letters? They're mickey beggin' you to take Max so he didn't end up in foster care." Ian had tears in his eyes by the time Mandy was done, but she couldn't tell if he was more happy or sad.

"I have a son." Ian rasped, quickly wiping his eyes. "He's mine." Mandy nodded, watching a look of sadness crash over Ian. "I let Mickey down, again; I let my kid down." Mandy hugged Ian, knowing how much hurting Mickey and missing out on the first year of Max's life was killing the redhead. And as much as she thought he deserved to hurt a little bit, no one should hurt as much as he was right now.

"I need to fix this... I need to fix everything." Ian sobbed, clutching Mandy's t-shirt as she let him cry out two years worth of self-hate, loneliness, and generally missing half of himself.


	4. Familiar Faces In A Crowded Room

"Got a visitor, Milkovich." Tucker Peters-a kind, middle aged man who didn't seem to belong in a prison setting, even as a correction's officer-said as he entered Mickey's cell, finding the younger man sitting on his bunk with a notebook and pen in his hands.

"Mandy don't come on Tuesdays." Mickey replied without looking up. He knew Mandy worked weekdays, and no one else has visited him in years.

"Not Mandy; it's some guy." Tucker said, leaning against the wall of Mickey's cell and offering the younger man a cigarette. Mickey fucking loved Tucker for bending the no smoking rule for the few inmates who weren't complete assholes. "He's on your approved visitor's list."

Mickey thought back to when he was asked to make that fucking list, and there were only four names on it; Iggy, Mandy, Svetlana, and Ian. Had Iggy moved back to Chicago after a year? No; Iggy wrote him often enough that Mickey would have known if Iggy and Kathy-the girl he'd straightened his damn life up for-had moved back from Cleveland. Maybe he was in town visiting Mandy? "He's a redhead, if that helps." Tucker said, causing Mickey's heart to clench in his chest.

"Tall? Green eyes? Fuck ton of freckles?" Mickey questioned, his mind manifesting every image of Ian he could.

"That's him. Saw him signin' in to see you and thought you'd want a heads up... Figured he might be Max's father." Tucker knew Max was Mickey's child-and not the bullshit story he gave the doctors about him being a surrogate for his sister-because he'd been Mickey's only companion when he was put in solitary once he started to show. He'd told Tucker the truth, and Tucker promised not to mention it to any other guards or the doctors.

"He is... Let's get this shit over with." Mickey sighed, standing up and following Tucker out of his cell and towards the man he never dreamed he'd see, again.

Ian didn't know what to expect when he went to the prison on Tuesday morning; he was almost positive Mickey had removed him from his visitor's list, but-much to his relief-he was still on the list and was permitted to see the brunette who had haunted his dreams for two years. He sat nervously staring through the glass divider and waiting for Mickey to walk in, though he doubted Mickey would let him get a word in; Mickey had two years of anger and disappointment to scream out in Ian's face. Finally, Ian saw a familiar head of dark hair and piercing blue eyes walking into the room and taking a seat in front of him.

"Hey." Ian awkwardly greeted, completely captivated by the new muscles and 2-day facial hair on the man who had already been beautiful. "I... You look good, Mick." Ian stated, not sure where else to start.

"You here for a reason, Gallagher?" Mickey asked, avoiding Ian's eyes at all costs.

"I saw Mandy; saw Max." Ian said, Clearing his throat after speaking his son's name. "I didn't know about him-I never read the letters you sent me-and Mandy said he was her son... I guess she thought she was doing what you wanted, but... Mick, I'm sorry." Ian knew his thoughts weren't exactly coherent, but his mouth refused to stop.

"So what? You know about the kid and now you wanna play Dad?" Mickey asked, glaring at Ian, now. "He's Mandy's kid, Ian; you're off the fuckin' hook."

"I don't wanna be "off the fuckin' hook" I wanna know my son, and I want you to know that I'm not the same irresponsible idiot I was at seventeen." Ian said, running his fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry I broke up with you, sorry I never read the letters, and I'm sorry I didn't try to wait for you."

"If you're not gonna take care of yourself, fuck off; you can't walk in and out of a kid's life whenever you want." Mickey said in warning.

"I take the meds, now." Ian said a little too quickly. "I want to be there for our son, Mick; I wanna take him to his Little League games, help him with his homework, tuck him at night, tell him stories when he has nightmares... I wanna be a dad."

"How'd you figure it out?" Mickey asked, seemingly ignoring Ian's miniature rant. "You said you didn't read the letters, so how'd you figure out he's yours?" Mickey clarified when he noticed Ian looked confused.

"He looks like you; same nose, same dimples, same eyes, same mouth, Hell, he even has your eyebrows." Ian chuckled, thinking back to the past few days he'd spent getting to know his son, and all of the little things about him that had reminded Ian the world of Mickey. "And he's a redhead."

"We're not his fuckin' parents; he's Mandy's kid. Those letters? You shoulda opened 'em, 'cause then you could've played Dad." Mickey spat angrily.

"I'm gonna be here every Tuesday, and I'm gonna get to know my son; I'm gonna prove I'm a grown up, now." Ian said, feeling saddened-despite Mickey clearly being angry-when he heard the buzzer, indicating their time was up. "I'll see you, next week."

"Do whatever you want." Mickey scoffed as he stood up to go back to his cell.

_"Ian,_

_We're over, and I get that, now, but I need your help. I'm pregnant; I'm gonna have the baby, and I need you to take the baby in... I can't let my kid grow up in the damn system, and you're their Dad, so... Please, do this for our kid._

_M."_

_"Ian,_

_I found out I'm having a boy. You haven't wrote me back, but I'm gonna hope you'll be there for our son. He needs his Dad, Ian, and I can't be there. Look, if you don't want him, I talked to Mandy about adopting him, but I'd rather him be with one of his parents._

_Please write me back this time._

_M."_

_"Ian,_

_Mandy's adopting the baby. She wants me to name him, but he's gonna be her kid. It hurts like fuck knowing that when I get outta here, my own son's gonna call me "Uncle Mickey" instead of Dad, but I had to make a choice for my son, and this was the best one since you obviously don't wanna be involved in his life._

_This is the last letter, I promise. Take care of yourself, Gallagher._

_M."_

Each letter hurt more than the last, and by the time Ian read Mickey basically freeing himself of any ties he had to Ian, the redheaded man was a mess. He was sitting in the center of his bed, sobbing his eyes out as he read every word Mickey wrote him-every letter he'd written, begging Ian to be a good father to their son-with shaking hands. What had Ian done when Mickey begged for his help? Stuffed the letters in a fucking pillowcase and dated different guys to forget him!

Ian needed to fix his messes, and it all needed to start with making up for two years of absence to his boys.


	5. This Shattered Symphony

"He looks just like Mickey!" Debbie gasped as Ian sat in the living room of the Gallagher house with Max sitting in his lap, perfectly content to soak up all of the attention he was getting and chew on the strings of his father's hoodie.

"Maybe if Mickey was a redhead." Lip joked, reaching out to tap Max's chin. "You got somethin' from your Daddy, didn't you, Pipsqueak?" Lip cooed, watching Max give a gummy smile around the piece of grey string in his mouth.

"He's a sweet little guy." Fiona said, letting Max play with her left hand.

"Papa's little man just wants to be the center of attention, don't you, Maxy?" Ian cooed, kissing the top of his son's head. Mandy was actually relieved that Ian was willing to take Max as often as he did, even if it just meant she got a few hours to nap after work while Ian spent time doting on his son.

"So what's the plan? You just play Dad for a few hours a week?" Debbie asked, having a bad taste in her mouth when it came to dead-beat fathers after Franny's decided he needed to fuck off when Debbie was pregnant.

"For now? I'm going to stick to what Mickey wanted, and that's for Max to be with Mandy. But... I don't know, I don't like the idea of just bein' a visitor in my son's life." Ian sighed, keeping his eyes on Max as the boy snuggled closer to his father. "I'm goin' to see Mickey, tomorrow before work."

"This is the third week in a row, right?" Fiona asked, leaning over to kiss Max's forehead as the boy's bright blue eyes fought to stay open.

"I'm gonna go every Tuesday until he's released." Ian swore, gently bouncing his leg as Max finally allowed himself to fall asleep against Ian's chest.

"Fifty-two visits a year for the next thirteen years, so that's... Six-hundred seventy-six times you'll see him before he's released." Lip rambled off.

"If he keeps his head down in won't be thirteen years." Ian stated hopefully. He tried not to think about the fact that Mickey might spend Max's entire childhood behind bars, but he knew from Mandy that Mickey had never even gone through with any of the attacks Svetlana was being paid for-mainly because he knew he was pregnant-and had only ever spent time in Solitary once he was showing, so Ian was almost certain Mickey would be released early. He just hoped the mess he made was ancient history, by then.

"Don't gotta keep puttin' money in my commissary account." Mickey yawned when he was finally seated across from Ian early Tuesday morning.

"Figured it could help you." Ian replied with a shrug. "Max likes the apartment." Ian had been looking for his own place for awhile, and finding out he was a father was just the push he needed to finally put in applications for his favorite places. He ended up getting the three bedroom on the second floor of Mandy's building, and he loved it; dark, hardwood floors throughout, light blue walls in the main rooms-living room, kitchen, and hallway-as well as a light tan color in the bedrooms and bathroom, classic crown molding, and a lovely enclosed balcony.

"You got the approval of a toddler." Mickey scoffed. "Mandy said he's spendin' nights with you, now."

"He's stayin' with me Friday, after I get the apartment together." Ian informed Mickey. "He calls me "Dada"... He saw a picture of you and started shoutin' "Daddy" and pointin' at you." Ian loved that Max called Mickey "Daddy", and he could see the slight smile from Mickey as he said it.

"Times up." Mickey said, biting his bottom lip. "See ya, Tuesday." Ian knew he was smiling like an idiot as Mickey walked away. He knew he was making progress with Mickey, he just hoped he could make up for those two years he lost.


	6. I Don't Care What They Say

Mickey had grown a lot since his relationship-though he wouldn't have admitted that was what was going on with a gun to his head, at first-with Ian began; he was more confident in his physical appearance, he was more willing to admit he was more than brute force and a piss-poor temper, and-most of all-he had no fucking problem saying he was gay, now. That lead to a bit of tension when a new correction's officer-a young, redheaded woman with large, doe-like brown eyes named Elizabeth Manning-started showing interest in the brunette man. She was training under Tucker when she first caught sight of Mickey Milkovich sitting on his bunk with a photo Ian had sent him of Max in his halloween costume-Max dressed up as a monkey-waving and smiling at Ian's Polaroid camera.

"This is Milkovich; he won't give you trouble, even though he's an asshole." Tucker joked-earning him a middle finger from Mickey-as he looked over Mickey's head at the photo. "Kid's gettin' big."

"Gonna be two in December." Mickey confirmed, handing Tucker the photo as he looked up to see the woman in his cell. "New kid?"

"Mickey, this is Elizabeth Manning; she's gonna be shadowin' me for a few days." Tucker said, passing the photo back to Mickey.

"Your kid?" Elizabeth asked, completely captivated by the brunette man's vibrantly blue eyes.

"Uhm... Yeah." Mickey said, surprising himself by not referring to Max as his nephew like he normally would as he passed Elizabeth the photo of the little boy. "Name's Max."

"He's beautiful." Elizabeth whispered, completely in awe of the man before her. Elizabeth wondered what Max's mother looked like-wondered what type of woman Mickey Milkovich was attracted to-and if she had a possibility to get his attention.

"Carl spent fifteen minutes tryin' to figure out how he didn't know before he left." Ian laughed, explaining how Carl had been convinced Mickey had gotten Ian pregnant before Carl went to juvenile detention. He apparently thought Ian had somehow hidden a baby for the year Carl was home before going to military school.

"Kid was never very smart." Mickey chuckled, already imagining Carl's reaction to seeing a small child with Ian's hair and Mickey's face. Mickey stopped smiling when he felt eyes on the back of his neck. He knew it was C.O. Manning; the woman had been watching him like a hawk for the past three weeks-including his weekly visits with Ian and Mandy-and it was starting to freak him the fuck out.

"Somethin' wrong, Mick?" Ian asked, noticing Mickey tensing.

"No, I'm fine. How's Max doin' in daycare?" Mickey asked, trying to stay focused on the little time he had left with Ian, this week.

"He's doin' great! He's learnin' his alphabet, already, and his teacher loves him!" Ian exclaimed, a smile firmly plastered on his face as he talked about their son. "He's been singin' the Alphabet Song all week and sittin' with one of the pictures I have of us singin' it to his Daddy."

"How 'bout you? You been havin' a hard time when he goes back to Mandy?" Mickey asked, knowing he wouldn't be able to do what Ian does, everyday with Max; spending as much time with their son as he could before sending him back to the woman raising him.

"It's hard, but I understand that she's got custody. He knows she's his Aunt and that we're his parents, and he know we love him. That's all that matters to me." Ian said, though Mickey could see how haunted Ian was by Max having to leave him. "Mandy thinks I should try to gain custody of him, now."

"Ian, you're not on his birth certificate; I left it blank." Mickey sighed, knowing that would be an issue if Mickey tried to gain custody of Max.

"Mandy showed me... I get, Mick; I was an asshole. And, maybe it's not the right time, but someday? I'd fuckin' love to have Max livin' with me full time... Both of you, actually." Ian tried not to mention a relationship with Mickey-primarily due to not knowing how Mickey would feel about it-but he needed to know where he stood.

"I'm in her for _at least _six more years, Ian." Mickey sighed, not wanting to get his hopes up.

"I'm gonna be right here when you get out." Ian promised, offering Mickey a soft smile. "You haven't asked if I was gonna wait since the first Tuesday... But I'm gonna." Ian swore, his fingertips touching the glass divider on their own.

"I'll see you next week." Mickey sighed as their time was up and he had to leave the redhead.

"So, that guy who visits you every week... He Max's uncle?" Elizabeth awkwardly asked Mickey as he read a little bit before going to sleep.

"Why're you so interested?" Mickey asked, his eyes still on his book. He knew Elizabeth was attracted to him, but he thought she would've figured out, by now, that he wasn't interested; he hadn't made a single lewd comment towards the woman the way the other men did, and he never actively sought out her attention.

"Just... You know, Max has red hair, and so does he." Elizabeth replied without answering Mickey's question. "Seems like you have a type, is all."

"One redhead makes it a "type", now?" Mickey questioned as he turned the page, one eyebrow shooting up to his hairline.

"Maybe." Elizabeth replied with a shrug.

"He's Max's father; I'm a carrier." Mickey said, still refusing to look at Elizabeth. "We were together for about four years."

"Oh... Oh, you're..." Elizabeth was clearly shocked, but Mickey didn't really care; he'd gotten over caring what people thought of his sexuality, years ago. "You're gay?"

"As a God Damn rainbow." Mickey replied, easily. Elizabeth quickly excused herself, but Mickey hadn't been paying enough attention to care. He just hoped she'd stop staring at him, now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't find anything that had the guard who fell in love with Mickey referenced by name, so I had to make something up. Let me know what you thought of this chapter. Much love!


	7. I'm In Love With You

"So, I talked to my buddy, Tom." Sean said, taking a seat next to Ian on the couch in Fiona's house, careful not to wake the sleeping toddler curled up against the younger man's side. "He looked over Mickey's case and he's willin' to take it pro-bono; says it clearly wasn't attempted murder and there's no way Mickey could've done it alone, given his height and weight."

"He's strong for his size." Ian said, though he hoped Thomas Wyley could get Mickey out of prison by proving Mickey hadn't actually tried to kill Sammi. "How long would Mick be in prison if it was just tampering with evidence?"

"Three to five years, but with good behavior he may get out on time served." Sean rattled off, not having to think about it.

"You really think this could work?" Ian asked, hopefully.

"Tom's good, Ian. If he can provide reasonable doubt? Mickey'll be out in time for Max's birthday." Sean replied with a comforting smile. "We're gonna get your man outta jail." Ian felt a wave of relief wash over him as he thought of Mickey finally being able to come home; finally being home with Ian and Max, where he belongs.

"I already told you I was alone, Gallagher." Mickey practically fucking growled at Ian. "I can carry your giant ass and you don't think I could carry Sammi Fuckin' Slott?!"

"You were fuckin' pregnant, hadn't slept in a God Damn week, and she's two inches shorter than you; how the Hell could you move her on your own _and _open the unit?" Ian questioned, knowing Mickey was lying to him. "It's an assault case, Mick-cut and dry-so no one's gonna serve fifteen years... I'm not gonna say somethin' you won't say back, but... You need to be home; you need to be with your family."

"Wouldn't be the first time one of us said somethin' the other one didn't fuckin' say back." Mickey spat back.

"I love you, Mickey. I know you're probably over me, but I fuckin' love you and I want you home." Ian sighed. "Just... Please, Mickey... Please, let me help you."

"I'm not sayin' who else was there." Mickey warned, forcing Ian to stare into those endlessly blue eyes. "Didn't get over you."

"Just let Wyley help you, Mick... So you can come home; so we can be a family." Ian whispered, trying not to gasp when Mickey actually teared up with an honest-to-goodness smile on his face.

"I'll talk to the damn lawyer." Mickey muttered, trying not to convey that he was already thinking about what life would be like once he was home with his son. "But I need you to do somethin' for me."

"So Mickey wants you to take Max?" Lip asked his brother as they finished repainting Max's bedroom a light, comforting shade of green. "Is he gonna stay with Mandy?"

"No idea; he said Mandy talked to him about it on Saturday. He agrees that Max should be with at least one of his parents, since he has the chance." Ian said, tearing a strip of painter's tape away from the crown molding. "What do you think?"

"Looks good. You ever gonna paint your room?" Lip asked, having seen how lifeless Ian's own bedroom was; there was only a night stand and his king sized bed in the room, making it appear more like a guest room than a bedroom his brother slept in, every night.

"Don't know; place don't really feel like home, yet." Ian replied, glancing into the living room at Max's toddler bed, dresser, and toy box. "It won't until Mickey's here." Lip understood how lost Ian felt without Mickey-he'd felt the same way since he lost Mandy-and he hoped Ian got a second chance with the man he loved, soon

"Okay, Max, who is... This?" Ian asked, holding his phone with his left hand to record Max's responses as he pointed at photos with his right.

"Dada!" Max laughed, covering his mouth with his chubby hands. Ian had been showing Max pictures in the photo album Fiona had made him as a house warming gift, all morning, and the boy was pretty proud of himself when he could identify the people in each photo.

"And this?" Ian asked, trying to get both Max and the picture of a smiling, carefree Mickey in the frame.

"Daddy!" Max cheered, tapping Mickey's face. "It Daddy!" Max exclaimed, happily.

"Yeah, it is. Can you tell Daddy hi?" Ian asked, tearing up as Max kept his eyes on his father.

"Hi, Daddy! Me yove you!" Max exclaimed, turing to look at Ian's phone with a wide, dimpled smile. For the past two years, Ian had felt like part of him was missing, and when he met Max? A piece of what was missing was returned to him. All he needed to be returned to a whole person was for Mickey to get out of prison so he could prove himself to the man he loved.

He just hoped Thomas Wyley could actually get Mickey out, early.


	8. I've Worked My Ass Off

Ian was beyond fucking exhausted by the time he trudged up the stairs to his apartment after his second twenty-four hour shift in a week; he was trying to save up money for Christmas and Max's birthday, and-while he was glad Mandy was always willing to watch Max when he worked these shifts-he had gotten very little sleep this week, and he missed his little boy like crazy. Ian had gained custody of his son just over a month ago, and so far he'd been able to spend just about as much time with him as he had before he had custody. These shifts were Hell on his body, but it would all be worth it when he could give Max a good Christmas and birthday.

"Hello?" Ian yawned into his phone-having answered without checking the caller ID-as he unlocked the door to his apartment.

_"An Inmate at Cook County Correctional Facility is trying to reach you." _An automated voice recited, waking Ian up, fully, for the first time, this week.

"Accept!" Ian quickly shouted into the phone, wondering why Mickey was calling him at Nine AM on a Thursday.

_"Hey, Gallagher." _Mickey's smooth voice did little to settle Ian's nerves, but he still fucking loved hearing it.

"Hey, baby. Is somethin' wrong?" Ian asked shakily, trying to change out of his uniform-that had some blood on it from the last patient on the rig before his shift ended-and remember if he left his car keys in his jacket pocket so he could rush to the prison. For all intents and purposes, Mickey and Ian were a couple, again, though that didn't mean phone calls were a common occurrence, these days.

_"You forget somethin', today?" _Ian was racking his brain at Mickey's question, wondering if today-December sixth-was of any importance.

"No? Franny's birthday's tomorrow, I got Max's birthday presents ordered two days ago, and your birthday's in fuckin' August." Ian rattled off, trying to figure out what he could've forgotten in his sleep-deprived state.

_"Did you get a chance to get some sleep, last night?" _Mickey asked in a soft laugh. _"I met with the damn judge, today."_

"Fuck! I'm so fuckin' sorry, baby! Lori offered to trade days with me so I could have Saturday off, and I completely forgot! Did... How did it go?" Ian almost didn't want to ask; didn't want to hear if his boyfriend was going to be spending another three years in prison.

_"I'm gettin' out, Ian." _Mickey sounded close to tears, now. He and Ian had been talking about the possibility of Mickey being out of prison before Max's second birthday, but Mickey didn't get his hopes up; he didn't want to have them crushed if he couldn't get out, soon.

"Holy shit, Mick... When?" Ian asked, flopping onto his bed with a relieved sigh.

_"Tomorrow at Noon... I can call Mandy if you gotta work." _Mickey offered, though both men knew what Mickey wanted to see when he walked out of the prison; he want the first people he saw to be Ian and Max, but he understood Ian's job was demanding.

"No, I'm off!" Ian rushed out, terrified that-if Mandy was the one to pick Mickey up-Mickey would change his mind about living in the apartment with Ian and Max. Of course-for the time being, at least-Mickey would have his own room, but Ian still wanted him close, now that he would be out of prison. "We'll be right outside; I'll make sure Max takes his nap, early so he's wide awake when he gets to see his Daddy."

_"If he wants to fall asleep on me, fuckin' let him; I missed over a fuckin' year with my kid, I can handle him sleepin' on me, for a few minutes." _Mickey protested, already completely willing to let his son get away with whatever he wanted.

"We'll be there. Fuck, baby... You're free " Ian breathed, wondering what life had in store for them once Mickey was a free man.

"Who's that, Max?" Ian asked the toddler perched on his hip with a wide smile as Mickey walked out of prison.

"Daddy!" Max shouted, pointing a chubby finger in the direction of the brunette man, sporting a smile Ian had never seen on Mickey; he had never looked so happy, or so innocent in all the time Ian had known him. "Dada! It Daddy!"

"Hey, Max." Mickey nervously said, his smile dropping when Max reached his tiny arms out towards the father he only knew from photographs.

"Daddy? Hold me, peas?" Max begged, his eyes now sad as he realized Mickey wasn't taking him out of Ian's arms.

"It's okay, Mick; you're not gonna break him." Ian promised, slowly placing Max in Mickey's shaking arms. "He's been waitin' for this just as long as you have." Mickey was no longer paying attention to Ian; he was too focused on the feeling of Max's tiny arms wrapping securely around his neck and the boy's head falling against his chest.

"Hey, baby boy. Daddy missed you, so much." Mickey whispered into Max's hair, taking a shaky breath to assure himself that this was real; that he was actually holding his son for the first time since the day he was born. Ian stood back, just watching Max and Mickey finally getting a chance to bond with each other after so long.

Ian needed to thank his sister's fiancé, for this; for giving his family a chance to be together, for the first time in Max's short life. "You just gonna stand there?" Mickey asked, looking up at Ian as he effortlessly shifted Max to his hip.

"No." Ian breathed, moving to kiss the man he'd been in love with since he was fifteen-years-old for the first time in almost three years. In that moment, Ian felt like _he _was the one coming home; every piece of him fell into place as his lips moved perfectly in sync with Mickey's, and he wondered-not for the first time-why he thought he needed to move on from this man. "Ready to go home?"

"Yeah... Yeah, let's go home, Gallagher." Mickey whispered, lacing the fingers on his free hand-the one that wasn't supporting the small amount of weight in their son's small body-with Ian's. He wasn't going to say anything this fucking cheesy-no way in Hell would Mickey Fucking Milkovich get all Hallmark movie in front of a prison-but Mickey was already home the second he was reunited with his boys.


	9. And They Say Home Is Where Your Heart Is Set In Stone

Mickey ended up having to sit in the backseat of Ian's car-a shitty little scratched up blue 1999 Pontiac Grand Am SE he managed to get for under four hundred dollars after he started saving money-because Max started screaming at the top of his lungs when Mickey buckled him into his car seat. "Me Daddy, Me Daddy, Me Daddy." Max sang to himself as he played with Mickey's tattooed fingers as Ian drove up the snowy streets towards their apartment.

"You gonna show Daddy your room, Maxy?" Ian asked his son, glancing at Mickey through the rearview mirror, smiling when he noticed the older man letting Max pull his hands around so he could trace the letters of his knuckle tattoos.

"Yes! An' me toys, an' me bankey!" Max giggled, kicking his tiny feet. "Daddy pay wiff me toys?"

"Yeah. Chipmunk; Daddy'll play with you." Mickey promised, playfully nibbling on Max's fingers. Max continued to chatter and kick his legs until Ian pulled into his parking spot outside their apartment building.

** Two Weeks Later**

"So, you two live together and you're together, but you sleep in separate rooms and aren't havin' sex?" Fiona asked, watching Ian closely as the redhead folded his little family's laundry at her Laundromat.

"We're takin' things slow, this time." Ian sighed, having explained the situation between Mickey and himself to Lip earlier that morning.

"You know how to do that?" Fiona jokingly asked, picking up one of Max's shirts. "He's so damn tiny!"

"Doctor said he's only in the tenth percentile for height and weight, at his age." Ian replied, glancing up from Max's clothes to see Debbie glaring in his direction. "Problem, sister dearest?"

"Are we seriously just... Okay with Mickey? He's a criminal; he was in prison for almost three years!" Debbie exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air.

"You were fine with him when you were talkin' about how much Max looks like him." Ian pointed out, wondering where Debbie's sudden animosity towards Mickey came from.

"He was in prison 'cause he tried to kill our sister! He drugged her damn soda!" Debbie's words caught Ian off guard, because he'd never told anyone in his family how Mickey had drugged Sammi.

"It was you." Ian seethed, clenching his jaw as Fiona looked between her brother and sister, her eyes wide when she realized Ian meant Debbie was the one who helped Mickey. "He spent three years in prison, gave birth to our son and had to watch him go with someone else, and he's only been home two damn weeks! You hid this shit... For what?!"

"I knew I was pregnant before he got arrested." Debbie muttered, looking away from Ian.

"Right, I forgot you lied to Derrek to get him to knock you up!" Ian shouted, wishing he could hit something, right now. "And you let Mickey take the blame for your stupid ass plan!"

"How do you know it was my idea?!" Debbie demanded.

"Mickey spent all of his fuckin' time takin' care of me! How the Hell would he know Sammi had that fuckin' soda to drug?!" Ian took a deep, shaky breath, quickly shoving his laundry in his baskets, ready to get home. "You're so fuckin' selfish, Debbie! You didn't even want your fuckin' daughter; you just wanted Derrek's family to pay attention to you!"

Ian left without giving Debbie a chance to argue her point, wanting to get away from the selfish, bratty woman his sister had turned into.


	10. Just A Dream

_ **Ian couldn't take his eyes off Mickey; couldn't stop watching the way beads of sweat rolled down his chest and stomach-fallowing the lines of the stretch marks left behind by his pregnancy-or the way he bit into his bottom lip as he slowly rocked his hips on top of Ian. They had always been phenomenal together, but the way Mickey was desperately bouncing and rocking on Ian's cock? This was a whole new level of amazing sex, even for them. "I'm close." Ian gasped, tipping his head back as Mickey's movements became more frantic.** _

_ **"Ian..." Mickey whimpered, leaning down to kiss the redhead as both men edged closer to their orgasms, silencing them both. "Ian!"** _

"Ian! Wake up, Fiona's here!" Mickey shouted from the living room, pulling the man from his dream. "Ian?" Mickey was now opening Ian's bedroom door, clearly concerned when he didn't hear a response.

"I'm up... Sorry, guess I slept in." Ian apologized, praying his boyfriend didn't notice the tent below the covers.

"Not like we had anything to do." Mickey commented, crouching down to pick up their giggling son. "Let's go talk to Auntie Fi so Papa can wake up, Chipmunk." Mickey said, smiling at the two-year-old boy in his arms as he walked back to the living room. Ian sighed, running his hand through his sweat-drench hair, completely embarrassed that he was having a sex dream like some high school kid.

"God, I'm a fuckin' mess." Ian whispered to himself, waiting until his erection flagged before moving to the living room with his family.

"I found some of our old Christmas decorations and thought you guys would get more use outta them than we do." Fiona explained, allowing Max to dig through the box of Christmas ornaments. "Got some of the stuff Ian made in school, in there. I figured, Max is gonna have more he made as he goes through school, so his Papa's stuff could go on the tree with his."

"Papa?" Max pleaded, holding up the wreath picture frame Ian had made in second grade-it was just puzzle pieces painted green and glued in a circle-with a photo of a smiling, seven-year-old Ian, sporting two missing teeth and a chubby face full of freckles.

"Yeah, that was Papa when he was little." Ian said, scooping the small child into his lap. 

"Daddy! It Papa!" Max cheered, holding the ornament out towards Mickey.

"Yeah, that's about how I remember your goofy ass lookin' when we played Little League, together." Mickey chuckled, looking down at the photo of his boyfriend. "Didn't Lip pull out one of your front teeth?"

"I couldn't get it to come out!" Ian defended, knowing that allowing Lip to pull the tooth out with a pair of pliers was a bad idea. "Hurt like Hell."

"Because it wasn't even loose!" Fiona chimed in, laughing at the memory of Ian saying Lip pulled the wrong tooth. "You should've just eaten an apple like I told you to."

"I wasn't gonna tell my son and boyfriend I let my brother rip out the wrong tooth, Fi!" Ian stage whispered, making Max laugh from his spot in Ian's lap.

"Daddy! Me got toof!" Max proudly exclaimed, moving to Mickey's lap to show him sparkling white baby teeth.

"Wow, Chipmunk! You get those from a Shark?!" Mickey asked, earning him a dimpled smile.

"Yes! Me sark!" Max shouted as he jumped to his feet, picking up what was left of his toast from breakfast off the coffee table and devouring it while making "shark noises" at his food.

"We're raisin' a Shark." Ian stated, wondering how the Hell his son was cute, even with toast crumbs all over his face.

"You were convinced you were a dinosaur at his age." Fiona said, passing Max a shimmering golden bulb from the box.

"You're determined to convince Mickey to never have another child with me, aren't you?" Ian hadn't realized what he'd said until Mickey turned to face him, blue eyes wide.

"Oookay. Well, I think I'm gonna steal the Shark and go look at the Christmas village at the Mall." Fiona awkwardly stated, pushing herself off the couch. "Kiss Daddy and Papa, Maxy!" Fiona instructed the toddler, watching him kiss both of his fathers' cheeks before allowing his aunt to pick him up, slide his coat, hat, gloves, and boots on him as quickly as she could, and walk out of the apartment with him on her hip.

"I didn't realize I said that." Ian muttered, staring into his coffee roughly ten minutes after Fiona and Max had left the apartment. Neither man had said a word-aside from Ian mumbling he was going to get coffee-since the Eldest and youngest Gallagher left, but the silence was becoming too tense for Ian. "I mean... I'm not gonna say I wouldn't _want _another kid with you, someday, but..." Ian needed to shut up; he wasn't making this any easier on himself.

"I just got outta prison two weeks ago, Ian." Mickey said as if Ian had suddenly forgotten Mickey had been gone for so long.

"I know." Ian replied, his eyes still on the cooling coffee between his hands.

"No, you don't; you don't know how much time I spent wishin' I could hate you, how much time I spent wishin' I was with my son, or how many nights I stayed awake, just so I didn't fuckin' dream about what we got now!" Mickey shouted, standing up to pace the length of the living room. "You don't really know, 'cause you spent the first two years with some fireman, some social worker, a fuckin' banker, and some guy who worked at the fuckin' fairytail!"

"How... How did you know all of that?" Ian asked, knowing he'd never told Mickey anything about the men he dated while the other man was in prison.

"'Cause Mandy told me." Mickey stated in a clipped tone. "She kept fuckin' tabs on you the whole time."

"Then you know it never lasted very long." Ian said, softly, finally looking up at the older man. "Elijah-the banker-only lasted two months 'cause I realized I was back to screwin' guys old enough to be my Dad and wasn't really interested in them, Ryan-the guy from The Fairytail-was only a month 'cause I thought if I dated someone who looked similar to you it wouldn't hurt as much-that didn't fuckin' work-Trevor-the social worker- was three months but kept tryin' to change me and it pissed me off 'cause I thought "Mickey liked me for me", and then Caleb-the firefighter-lasted four months, and he was a cheating, lying piece of shit and it reminded me of what I did to you."

"Why didn't you read the letters?" Mickey asked after a moment of silence.

"'Cause I'm an idiot and thought you were just gonna lecture me about my meds like everyone else was doin'." Ian admitted.

"But you kept them? Why the Hell would you do that?" Mickey asked, his earlier anger replaced with genuine curiosity.

"'Cause they were from you." Ian replied as if it was the most obvious point he could have made. "'Cause even when I was sure you hated me, I was still in love with you, and I needed a piece of you to help me get through the day."

"I'm not completely against the idea of another kid, someday." Mickey said, sitting next to Ian on the couch. "But I got two years to make up for, with Max."

"I get it, baby; I'm tryin' to make up for two years with both of you." Ian knew he still had a lot of work to do, and-while this conversation didn't start the way he would've liked it to-he and Mickey needed to talk about what each of them wanted out of their relationship. "But I'm not goin' anywhere; I'm gonna be here, as long as that's what you want."

"Gonna go down to the courthouse and marry me like a couple of old Queens?" While Mickey repeating what Ian had said when he broke up with Mickey hurt, the small smile on the older man's face gave him some hope.

"Not today; we need to get the tree up before our child loses his mind." Ian replied, taking a chance by kissing Mickey.

"We got awhile before Fiona brings him home." Mickey stated with a suggestive smirk.

"What happened to takin' things slow?" Ian asked, tracing Mickey's jaw with his fingertip.

"Two weeks _is _slow for us." Mickey left no more room for argument as he stood up from the couch and started walking towards Ian's bedroom, causing the younger man to run after him. Mickey was right; this was slow enough for them.


	11. Baby, It's Cold Outside

Ian was in fucking Heaven; Mickey had moved into the master bedroom with him after they started having sex, Mickey had started working with a construction company doing renovations on historic buildings throughout the city-which actually paid pretty well-and they were home at the same time every night, so their little family got to have dinner, together. His life was exactly how he'd pictured it as a teenager, and it got better every morning he woke up beside the man he loved. "Alright, Chipmunk, breakfast and then we're goin' to Auntie Fi's house for a party!" Mickey exclaimed, carrying Max on his shoulders as he walked through the apartment towards the kitchen.

Max looked adorable in his "_How The Grinch Stole Christmas" _footie Pajamas with his fiery red hair sticking up in all directions, but what Ian found the most endearing about the image before him was the way Max rested his chin on the top of Mickey's head as he played with the strands of hair tickling his nose. "Why the Hell is Fiona havin' the damn party in the afternoon, anyway?" Mickey asked, setting Max in his booster seat as Ian plated French Toast-with bacon for Mickey and himself and with a sliced banana for Max-for their family.

"She said it's because it's Christmas Eve, so everyone with kids is gonna have a hard enough time gettin' them to sleep without a shit ton of sugar in their systems." Ian said, secretly praying whatever poor dumbass Debbie had nipping at her heels would keep her away for the day. He knew he would never be able to forgive her for letting Mickey take the fall for her plan, and-though he would deny it-Mickey wasn't her biggest fan, after that, either.

"Max is easy to get to sleep; Kev and Vee are gonna be the ones with a damn war on their hands." Mickey stated, watching Max happily devour his breakfast. "The other Gallagher gonna be there?"

"Don't think so; Fiona's been pissed since I figured it out and Lip won't even acknowledge she's in the same room as him." Ian knew his family had been hesitant about Mickey in the beginning of their relationship, but-aside from Debbie-they all adored the brunette man.

"If she is? Don't start a damn fight; Max don't need that shit in his life." Mickey instructed Ian, glancing at him to insure the redhead listened.

"When did you become all "peace on Earth" and all the shit?" Ian jokingly asked, moving to wipe some smudged banana off Max's chin.

"When I realized prison fuckin' sucks." Mickey replied, smirking when Max pouted down at his plate. "What's wrong, Max?"

"More 'nanas?" Max asked, moving his plastic plate to show Mickey he was out of fruit.

"Eat your french toast, first, baby." Mickey said, picking up one of the small squares of food up and holding it out for Max to take.

"Yummm." Max muttered, happily smacking his lips as he ate. Ian just sat back, watching with a fond smile as Mickey continued to pass Max bite after bite of food.

"What's the face for?" Mickey asked, not looking away from the two-year-old.

"Nothin', baby." Ian replied, still in awe over the fact that this was his life, now.

"There's my baby!" Fiona cheered as Max walked into the house in front of his parent, all bundled up in his black coat, blue beanie, and Paw Patrol scarf and mittens. Fiona had Max in her arms, kissing his cold, flushed cheeks before Mickey and Ian even had time to set the presents they had gotten Ian's family under to tree. "You're so cute, Maxy!"

"Yep, ignore the people who _made_ the baby." Ian dramatically sighed, watching Fiona continue to kiss Max's cheeks. "Makes perfect sense."

"Can you blame me? He's fuckin' precious!" Fiona gasped, tapping Max's nose affectionately.

"Me coot, FiFi?" Max asked through giggles.

"So cute." Fiona agreed, taking the beanie off Max's head, making his normally wild curls even wilder.

"Did I hear my Pipsqueak?" Lip called out as he walked from the kitchen to the living room.

"Unnle Pipsit!" Max shouted, making Mickey crack up laughing; Mickey called Lip "Dipshit" so much, Max had actually started thinking it was the man's name.

"Was that necessary?" Ian asked his boyfriend as Lip took Max from Fiona, completely ignoring the insult.

"Absolutely." Mickey responded, still laughing under his breath.

"You ever gonna call me "Uncle Lip", buddy?" Lip asked the toddler, allowing Mickey to join them and remove the rest of his outerwear.

"Unnle Yip?" Max asked, seemingly not enjoying that name as much as he had "Uncle Dipshit" just moments earlier.

"We'll work on it." Lip decided. "Did you really need to hang up Mistletoe, Fi?"

"It's Christmas!" Fiona argue, picking up a piece of Mistletoe and holding it over Max's head. "You gotta kiss under the Mistletoe on Christmas!"

"Daddy Tiss?" Max asked, taking the branch into his hand and holding it over his head.

"Yeah, Daddy can give you a kiss, baby." Mickey laughed, softly, kissing Max's cheek.

"Papa! Tiss Daddy!" Max ordered, holding the mistletoe over Mickey's head.

"Rules are rules." Ian replied, wrapping both arms around his boyfriend and pulling him into a kiss.

"We're here! Let the first ever "Child-Friendly Gallagher party" commence!" Kev exclaimed, carrying a mountain of gifts as Vee lead their twins into the house. This was a new Era for the Gallaghers and their extended family, so they were going to enjoy every moment of it.

"Okay, time for the little ones to open presents!" Fiona exclaimed, plopping herself in front of the tree. "First one is for... Max, from... Uncle Kev and Auntie Vee." Fiona read from the tag on the gift, passing the wrapped box to Max-seated in Mickey's lap on the floor-for him to open.

"Are we late?" Everyone's head snapped to the door, seeing Debbie standing with her arms crossed over her chest and Franny already running around the house like a twenty-six pound tornado.

"Didn't bring the other kids any presents?" Lip asked, noticing Debbie's empty hands. Sure, most people had brought a gift for everyone, but the requirement for the party-since it was for the children-was bringing a present for each of the children in the room.

"They got enough." Debbie scoffed, stopping her daughter as she attempted to run past and redirecting her to the tree. "Now, Franny's next."

"Actually, I just gave Max a present to open." Fiona chimed in, pointing towards where Max was attempting to tear the wrapping paper on his present.

"Here, Chipmunk, let Daddy help." Mickey said, using his thumbnail to start the paper for Max.

"Monmey!" Max gasped, hugging the Fisher Price monkey toy. "Tan to, Keb! Tan to, Bee!" Max exclaimed, climbing out of Mickey's lap to hug Kev and Vee.

"You're welcome, baby." Vee said with a warm smile, glad Max had liked their gift.

"Fo Mamy?" Max attempted to whisper to Ian, happy when his father passed him the right gift. "Mamy!" Max happily exclaimed, passing the gift to Amy. "Fo Gem?" Max questioned, fallowing the process with Gemma's present.

"Uhm, What about Franny?" Debbie asked, watching as Max bounced on the balls of his feet as the twins opened their gifts from Ian, Mickey, and Max. Until the twins held up their "My Little Pony" playsets, Franny sat still. But-as soon as she saw the brightly colored toys the twins received-she stood up, knocked Max to the ground, and snatched Amy's new toy.

"Oh shit!" Mickey shouted, on his feet in a split second when he saw his son fall backward, his hand scraping against the tree as he tried to stay upright. "Let Daddy see." Mickey said, gently lifting Max off the ground. "It's okay, Maxy."

"Debbie, what the Hell?!" Fiona demanded, tearing the toy out of Debbie's grasp and returning it to Amy.

"Fi, I think we should take Max home." Ian decided, seeing fat tears sliding down Max's cheeks as he looked at his bloody hand.

"What about his presents?" Liam asked, looking down at the gift he'd bought Max with his own money-that he had earned from "helping" Kev clear the sidewalks-with a sad face.

"We'll bring him back, tomorrow, kid." Mickey promised, knowing if they stayed any longer he or Ian-or both, which seemed more likely-would end up in a fight with Debbie over what Franny had just done to Max. Ian ushered his family out of Fiona's house and to their car, Mickey trying to calm Max down as he cleaned the boys hand the whole time. Ian was pissed, and he could tell Mickey was, too, but they had to stay calm for their child.


	12. Into The Next Year

After the Christmas Eve fiasco at Fiona's house, Ian and Mickey had taken Max back on Christmas day after his nap. The kid made a killing off of the presents he got from the Gallagher's and their extended family; an indoor pop-up tent with a tunnel from Carl, a star projector nightlight from Liam, a singing toy car that taught kids to count from Lip, a Paw Patrol "sleep over set"-a sleeping bag, pillow, backpack, slippers, pajamas, and a new toothbrush-from Fiona, several Dinosaur stuffed animals from Sean, a Pikachu piggy bank from Amy and Gemma, and a teddy bear Ian and Mickey could sync to their phones to tell Max stories from Mandy. Max had loved his presents, so when Fiona suggested he use his new tent and sleeping bag to spend New Years Eve with his "favorite Auntie" Max was a ball of excitement.

"You sure you can handle him over night?" Mickey asked Fiona as he helped her load Max's stuff in the back of her car. "He'll scream like a fuckin' banshee once he gets tired."

"He's two, Mickey; they all scream like Banshees." Fiona pointed out, closing her hatchback. "Look, you and Ian should get a night to yourselves; you're young and in love! Enjoy it!"

"We get time alone." Mickey replied, hoping the heat creeping up his neck didn't reveal how much Mickey enjoyed that time alone with the redhead. Sure, they had to keep themselves quiet so they didn't wake Max, but _fuck _if Mickey didn't still love every second of being pounded into the mattress by Ian.

"First off, I don't wanna know about your sex life-that's my little brother-second, this is gonna be a whole night to yourselves; drink some beers, watch a movie that don't have talkin' animals in it, take a shower that lasts longer than five minutes, and-as much as I don't wanna hear about it-have loud sex." Fiona cringed, but Mickey caught a glint of fondness in her eyes. As much as Fiona had disliked Mickey during his teen years, she seemed to love him now that he was an adult.

"Baby boy's ready to spend the night with Auntie Fi!" Ian exclaimed as he walked out of the apartment building with Max propped on his hip. "You gonna be good for Auntie Fi?" Ian asked, planting a kiss on Max's cheek and passing the boy into Mickey's waiting arms.

"Pomise." Max said, holding his tiny hand out to Ian to make a "Pinky promise" that could easily melt the iciest of hearts.

"Daddy and Papa are gonna call you before bed, okay?" Mickey promised their son, bouncing the toddler slightly as Max wrapped his arms around Mickey's neck.

"Yove you, Daddy. Yove you, Papa." Max replied, waving to both of his parents as Fiona stole him away from Mickey and buckled him into his extra car seat-which Mickey and Ian kept in case someone else had to pick Max up or babysit the boy while they were working-still smiling at both parents.

"I'm not gonna let anything happen to him, Mick." Fiona promised before driving off towards her house.

"He's gonna be fine, baby." Ian whispered, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend's waist. "Now come inside and spend some time with your boyfriend." Ian ordered, taking his arms off Mickey's waist and pulling him inside.

"So, is Ian gonna let you know how his plan goes?" Vee asked Fiona, bouncing Max on her knee as the toddler played with his singing car.

"Knowin' Ian and Mickey? I'll find out tomorrow when they pick Max up." Fiona joked, knowing tonight was a big night for Ian; tonight was the night he planned on proposing to Mickey, so he'd asked Fiona to keep Max so they had the whole night to themselves.

"We already know Mick's gonna say yes." Vee said, placing a kiss on Max's messy red curls.

"We do, but Ian's convinced tonight's gotta be perfect, so Maxy and I are gonna camp in the livin' room!" Fiona gasped, laughing softly under her breath when Max clapped his chubby hands. She knew Ian had tonight planned down to the last detail, and she knew it was going to go perfectly, which meant that-by midnight-Ian and Mickey would be engaged.

"Stop it, dumbass." Mickey laughed, trying to squirm his way away from Ian on their couch after they ate dinner-Ian had made steaks, which Mickey wasn't going to complain about-and watched some stupid, cheesy action movie. "Why are you bein' so clingy?" Mickey asked, tipping his head to allow Ian to continue to kiss his way down the brunette's neck. 

"'Cause I love you." Ian muttered, enjoying his night alone with the love of his life.

"Love you, too. Don't tell me why you're hangin' all over me." Mickey replied, trying not to scream as Ian lifted him up and laid back down with Mickey on top of him.

"I'm just lovin' on my baby." Ian declared, moving to kiss Mickey's lips. "I get you to myself, all night." Ian muttered against Mickey's lips, moving his hands down to cup the smaller man's ass.

"Gonna do somethin' about it?" Mickey asked, raising one eyebrow as a challenge. He couldn't help laughing as Ian stood up, wrapping Mickey's legs around himself as he carried his boyfriend to the bedroom.

"Sssh, Maxy, you're gonna be fine, baby boy." Fiona cooed, bouncing Max in her arms. The toddler had started vomiting not long after dinner, but Fiona didn't want to ruin his parents' night, considering what Ian was planning. "Auntie Fi's just gonna give you some medicine and then we can cuddle on the couch, okay?"

"Want Daddy!" Max sobbed, hugging his stuffed Brachiosaurus closer to his chest. "Peas, Daddy!"

"Okay... Okay, Auntie Fi's gonna call your Papa and your Daddy." Fiona sighed, reaching for her phone and trying to figure out how to make it up to Ian.

"Fuck! God _damn, _Mick! You look so fuckin' good." Ian moaned, clutching Mickey's hips tighter as the brunette bounced on his cock. "Fuck, I'm so close, Mickey." Ian wanted to hold off his orgasm a little longer, but Mickey was moving his hips so fucking perfectly that Ian knew he had a few more seconds in him.

"Let go,baby; cum for me." Mickey panted against Ian's lips, keening when Ian moved one hand to pump Mickey's cock in time with the man's movements. "Shit!" Mickey gasped, shooting his release all over Ian's stomach and his hand, feeling Ian's own cum inside him as the man finally reached his orgasm.

"Shit, I gotta check this." Ian said as an apology as he reached for his phone. "It's Fiona." Ian and Mickey were both shocked when Fiona's name appeared on the screen, both afraid something was wrong with their son. "What's up, Fi?"

_"Hey, I'm so fuckin' sorry, but Max is sick and he's cryin' for Mickey." _Fiona rushed out, clearly upset that she had interrupted their night.

"We'll be there as soon as we can." Ian promised, seeing Mickey already throwing his clothes on. 

_"I'm so sorry, Ian. I know you had a plan for tonight... Maybe you can do it another night." _Fiona sighed, but Ian didn't care if one night didn't go as planned; his son was more important.

"Give us five minutes. Tell Max Papa and Daddy are on their way." Ian hung up after that, he and Mickey both rushing to get shoes on and get out of the apartment as quickly as they could.

"What was Fiona talkin' about, earlier?" Mickey asked two hours later as he and Ian sat with Max curled up between them, his little head resting on Mickey's leg and his legs over one of Ian's.

"Nothin'. She just knew I wanted to be selfish with you for a night." Ian lied, easily. He would find another time to propose to Mickey; one where their son wasn't sick and didn't need his parents to take care of him.

"Sorry he got sick and ruined it for you." Mickey said, turning his head to kiss Ian as he continued to run his fingers through Max's hair while the little boy slept.

"We're in our own place with our son, and we're together... Beats most things, if you ask me." Ian replied, knowing it was true; this was all he had wanted for so long, and it was finally his life. He could last a little bit more time with Mickey as his boyfriend instead of as his fiancée.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been really sad the past few days after my baby-my dog I've had for 15 years-died, so writing is my therapy. Leave me some comments, beauties. Much love!


	13. The Rest Don't Matter

Ian didn't get another chance to have a night alone with Mickey until February fourteenth; until Valentine's Day. He made sure nothing could go wrong this time; Max was completely healthy, Fiona had a box of Max's favorite toys and movies to keep the toddler busy, and he knew he and Mickey would have the next day off. In other words, Ian had planned for any possible interference, and he knew he'd have Mickey to himself, all night. "The Hell is all this?" Mickey asked as he walked into the apartment, seeing that Ian had lit candles, had dinner on the table-he'd ordered take out from a little Italian restaurant in their neighborhood, knowing he wouldn't have time to cook after he dropped Max off to his sister-and had one of Mickey's favorite beers waiting next to the man's dinner.

"It's Valentine's day, and you're not a flowers, champagne, and expensive candy kind of guy, so I did the next best thing." Ian explained, moving to kiss his boyfriend as Mickey removed his jacket and boots.

"Damn, and here I thought I'd get a bouquet of fuckin' roses." Mickey joked, wrapping his arms around Ian's neck. "I have time to shower or is my food gonna be cold and gross by the time I get out?"

"It just got here, so you're fine." Ian whispered, kissing Mickey again. "Max is stayin' with his Auntie Fi, tonight, so it's just you and me."

"Lucky me." Mickey murmured as he stepped out of Ian's arms and towards the bathroom.

"How the Hell did he think that was a good idea?" Mickey asked as Ian told him about a man they picked up, today, who had tried to get his ex-girlfriend back by making himself sick. He did that by drinking fucking pinesol.

"No idea. He didn't want anyone to tell her he wasn't just sick, 'cause I guess he's done shit like this, before." Ian replied, running his hand up and down the length of Mickey's right calf where the man's legs rested in his lap.

"Who the fuck does that?" Mickey asked, sighing as Ian moved to rub Mickey's sore, tired feet.

"Honestly? I could see Debbie doin' it." Ian replied, knowing his sister had always been desperate for attention. "Anything interesting happen at work?"

"Fuckin' electrician almost got Marty. Asshole didn't tell anyone he turned the power back on and Marty missed a live wire by about an inch." Mickey said, his whole body relaxing as Ian continued to massage his feet. "Feels nice."

"Too nice for us to go to bed?" Ian asked, moving quickly to straddle Mickey's hips.

"Hmm... Think I can manage." Mickey mumbled, surging forward to capture Ian's lips.

"Night, Max." Fiona whispered as she tucked Max into Ian's old bed, pulling the covers up to the sleeping toddler's chin before turning on his nightlight and walking out of the room.

"Max already asleep?" Lip quietly asked his sister, watching as she walked down the stairs without Max on her hip.

"Yeah. He was out before I even got him in bed." Fiona laughed, taking a seat next to Lip and stealing his cigarette away. "Ian or Mickey find out you were smokin' in the house when Max is here? They'll fuckin' kill you."

"If you don't tell them they won't know." Lip replied, snatching the cigarette back. "You talked to Debbie since Christmas?"

"Only to tell her that shit Franny pulled at the Christmas party wasn't gonna fly." Fiona replied, knowing Debbie had no intention to change the way she was raising her daughter, and Fiona hadn't thought it was an issue until she saw Mickey and Ian with Max; the two men were barely older than Debbie, yet they were raising their son with manners, didn't let him do whatever he wanted, and Max could actually talk-which Franny still couldn't really do at two years old-without screeching incoherently.

"Not like she's gonna change it." Lip sighed, knowing Debbie didn't see any problem with her daughter acting like a two year-old menace. 

"I know... Think Ian's really gonna ask him, tonight?" Fiona asked, no longer wishing to talk about the terror that was Franny.

"Max isn't cryin' for one of them, so yeah." Lip replied, imagining the sappy smile on Ian's face after he and Mickey finally became engaged.

Mickey fell asleep almost as soon as Ian pulled out, curling himself up against the redhead's side. Ian couldn't sleep, though; he couldn't take his eyes off of the relaxed, content expression on Mickey's face as the brunette slept. "You have no idea how much I love you." Ian whispered, tracing Mickey's jawline with his index finger.

"I know, now let me fuckin' sleep." Mickey muttered, swatting Ian's hand away from his face.

"Shut up and let me love you." Ian replied, smiling softly as he moved to Mickey's eye level. "You're so beautiful, Mick."

"Why're you bein' so affectionate?" Mickey asked through a yawn, those stunning blue eyes slowly opening.

"Because it's Valentine's day and I love you." Ian explained, kissing the tip of Mickey's nose. "I had somethin' else planned for tonight."

"More than bein' able to eat a whole meal before it's cold and loud, rough sex?" Mickey asked, jokingly.

"Yeah... You know I love you, right?" Ian nervously asked, sitting up to retrieve the ring from the drawer in his nightstand.

"Yeah? You said it like, six fuckin' times, today... What's wrong?" Mickey asked, much more awake as he sat up.

"Nothing... Mickey, I was a fuckin' mess without you, and even after I found out about Max and I was happier than I had been in two years, I still felt like part of me was gone. I didn't feel like I was whole, again, until I had you back where you belong; here with our family. And I realized I never wanted to be without you, again. So... Mikhailo Aleksandr Milkovich, will you marry me?" Ian asked, finally revealing the ring to Mickey.

"Are you... Is this for real?" Mickey asked, staring at the ring, still cradled in a small, black box.

"Absolutely... You gonna answer me?" Ian asked, feeling his chest tightening as he thought Mickey would turn him down.

"Yes... Yeah, I'll fuckin' marry you!" Mickey laughed, wetly, trying to keep his hands from shaking as Ian slid the ring onto Mickey's ring finger.

"I fucking love you, Mickey." Ian whispered, leaning in to kiss his fiancèe. "I love you so fuckin' much!" Ian had Mickey on his back with his body pressed tightly to every inch of the brunette man.

"Gonna show me how much, tough guy?" Mickey muttered, surging forward to kiss Ian.

"Anytime you want me to, baby." Ian whispered, grinding his hips into Mickey's as he reached for the bottle of lube he'd sat aside earlier in the evening. He made quick work of prepping the smaller man before sliding his cock into the tight heat he'd never get enough of. "Fuck, you're so tight."

"Faster." Mickey panted, wrapping his legs around Ian's hips.

"Feel so fuckin' good, Mick." Ian moaned, picking up speed. He moved his lips to Mickey's neck, moaning with every move of Mickey's hips as both men approached their orgasms. "I'm close, baby." Mickey nodded, but didn't say anything as he pulled Ian into a kiss that was more teeth and tongue than lips.

"Ian!" Mickey screamed, his head falling back as he came between their bodies.

"Shit." Ian panted, releasing into Mickey's plaint body. "Gonna have to tell everyone, soon." Ian said, shakily pulling out and laying down beside Mickey.

"Tomorrow. Sleep, now." Mickey ordered, moving to lay on top of Mickey.

"Can't wait to marry you." Ian said, pressing a kiss to the top of Mickey's head.

"Can't wait to marry you, either." Mickey yawned, snuggling into Ian's chest. Ian waited until he was sure Mickey was asleep to snap a quick picture of himself kissing the top of Mickey's head, the man's engagement ring visible where his hand sat on Ian's shoulder.

_Ian.Gallagher: HE SAID YES! Can't wait to marry you, @mick_Gallagher. I love you, baby. #couldntbehappier #ilovemyman_


	14. Love Me, Now

Needless to say, Fiona and Mandy wanted Ian and Mickey to have "a real wedding", which put a lot more stress on them than either man ever imagined one day would. "What the Hell is the difference between fuckin' "White" and "Ivory"? They're the exact same fuckin' thing!" Mickey groaned, dropping onto the couch beside Ian, who wrapped his arm around the smaller man without conscious thought.

"Moments like this make me wish you were a more stereotypical gay man!" Mandy snapped, closing the-rather extensive-binder in her lap and pinching the bridge of her nose.

""White" means that blinding, hospital white. "Ivory" is softer." Ian explained, having actually listened to Mandy the first time she'd said it.

"What gay?" Max asked, trying-and failing-to pull himself onto the couch with his parents.

"It means a boy loves a boy, baby; like Daddy and Papa love each other." Ian said, removing his arm from Mickey's waist just long enough to help Max up.

"Can one of you _please _pick a fuckin' color scheme so Fiona and I can get shit started?" Mandy asked, starting to lose her patience with her brother and best friend as she passed them a paper with several different color schemes for them to choose from.

"Remind me why we can't just go to the fuckin' courthouse?" Mickey asked his fiancè, looking at the paper as if it had insulted him.

"'Cause we have sisters." Ian sighed, looking at the paper in Mickey's hand.

"Pretty." Max chimed in, tapping a color scheme consisting of navy blue, emerald green, charcoal gray, and black.

"Kid's right; only one that don't look like something fuckin' Barbie puked up." Mickey said as he snatched one of Max's crayons off the coffee table, circled the colors Max had chosen, and passed the paper back to his little sister. Mickey _did _have a point; most of the nine options Mandy had consisted of pinks, purples, some variation of white, and either silver or gold.

"We can work with this." Mandy said, nodding as she reopened her binder. "So, is Max the one to ask about everything?" She jokingly asked, smiling at her adorable nephew as the boy crawled over Ian to curl himself up against Mickey's chest.

"You wanna help Daddy and Papa, Chipmunk?" Mickey asked, looking down at the toddler in his lap.

"Yeah." Max said, far more focused on tapping his fingers against Mickey's sternum in time with the man's heartbeat than anything else.

"Okay, that's just cute." Mandy said, watching on with a soft, loving expression as Max listened to his Carrier father's heart beating like his favorite lullaby. "This a new thing with him?"

"Started when he got the flu; he wouldn't sleep unless Mick let him lay on his chest." Ian confirmed, running his fingers through his son's hair as the boy's finger slowed down, signaling that he was falling asleep.

"Guess it makes sense; it was the first sound he ever heard." Mandy replied, still watching Max as his fist clutched Mickey's shirt and his breathing evened out.

"Pretty sure the first thing he heard was me tellin' some fuckin' nurse to stop touching me damn face." Mickey joked, wrapping his left arm around his son to keep the boy upright.

"Inside the womb, dumbass." Mandy chuckled. "He's so damn little."

"He's gonna end up bein' like Mickey." Ian said, earning a glare from his fiancèe. "Not my fault you're short."

"Fuckin' asshole." Mickey mumbled, trying not to wake Max up. "Spent the whole time I was pregnant scared outta my fuckin' mind thinkin' Terry would see me; can't really imagine my damn heartbeat was very relaxin' for him."

"You never told me Terry was in there." Ian felt sick; he knew Terry spent most of his time in prison, but he hadn't thought about the possibility of Terry being in the same prison as Mickey when the brunette was pregnant with Max.

"'Cause it wasn't a big deal; spent most of my pregnancy in solitary to keep the baby safe. I wasn't in there as a punishment, though, so I got to go to the yard and shit." Mickey explained, quietly. "Kept thinkin' he was gonna see me when a guard was walkin' me out, but he never did."

"Good; if something happened to you or Max I would've fuckin' killed him." Ian swore, leaning over enough to press a kiss to the top of Max's head.

"Hate to break up the little family moment, but we got a wedding to plan." Mandy said, clearing her throat and looking down at the isle runners to hide the fact that seeing her brother and best friend this happy had her tearing up. "You wanna go with blue or green for the isle runner?"

"Blue." Ian said, looking at Mickey while the other man was preoccupied with the sleeping child in his lap.

"Great; we're finally getting somewhere. We're gonna drape the chairs and tie them... What color do you want over them?" Mandy asked, making notes as she went. They were on a pretty slim budget-and both men were well aware of it-so they were using folding chairs from the rec center, but Mandy and Fiona were determined to make this wedding as nice as possible for their brothers.

"Grey... Tie it off with the green." Mickey decided, still pretty busy trying to stay as still as possible to avoid waking Max from his nap.

"See? Is this so hard?" Mandy asked, just happy they were_ finally _getting somewhere with the wedding plans.

"Yes." Mickey responded, making Ian choke on his coffee.

"You're an asshole and I can't believe Ian's marrying you." Mandy said, getting her purse off the floor. "I'm leaving. If I choose some shit for the wedding myself, it's on Mickey." With that Mandy left and Mickey let out a sigh of relief. After four hours of Mandy trying to talk them into a "traditional" wedding, badgering Mickey about him not wanting to wear a tuxedo, and showing them so many gaudy, over the top wedding photos that Mickey actually thought he would lose his damn mind, he was incredibly happy his sister decided to head out.

"You gonna invite Debbie?" Mickey asked, moving to lay his head on Ian's shoulder.

"I don't know; she's my sister, but with the shit she's been pulling the past few years? I feel like if I invited her to the wedding she'd stand up during the damn ceremony and start screamin' that _she's _in love with you just to get the attention on her." Ian groaned, knowing that Debbie had always done anything and everything to get every ounce of attention on her. He understood-to an extent-that she felt left out by being a middle child, but Debbie had went to some pretty extreme lengths to get what she wanted.

"Or she'll fuckin' propose to whoever she's dating in the middle of it." Mickey joked.

"Jump up and announce that she's pregnant." Ian rattled off.

"Get so "drunk" she starts A fight." Mickey continued, clearing having expierence in that area.

"Start dancin' on tables and "fall" off." Ian said, laughing at the thought of Debbie doing any of these things to ruin their wedding and it backfiring on her. "Maybe I should invite her just to see Fiona go off if she _does _try any "Debbie" shit."

"Fiona would fuckin' murder her... Don't exactly feel like hidin' a body during our wedding." Mickey said, lightly. Ian laughed, knowing Mickey was right.

"Can't believe we're getting married, next month... Ready to back out, yet?" Ian jokingly asked, despite having had several nightmares about Mickey deciding he didn't want to marry Ian and leaving him, all together.

"Fuck you, Gallagher, I'm not going' anywhere. And if you do? I'll fuckin' destroy anything you love." Mickey threatened, leaning in to brush his lips against Ian's.

"Please don't destroy yourself and our son." Ian whispered, affectionately. Sure, he sometimes wondered why Mickey was with him, but he could still hold onto the fact that Mickey wanted to marry him; that Mickey loved him. It certainly helped when those nightmares hit.

"When did you plan on telling me that Ian and Mickey are getting married?!" Debbie demanded, marching into the house with Franny-who was already off to destroy something-stomping in behind her.

"We weren't going to unless Ian decided he wanted you at the wedding. How the Hell did you find out, anyway?" Lip asked, looking over Mandy and Fiona's binder of wedding plans with both women.

"I work part-time at the Florist you called; I saw the order for Royal Blue Hydrangea and Forget Me Nots... I only paid attention because it said "Gallagher/Milkovich wedding: deliver on March twenty-second." So, why the Hell was I not invited to my fucking brother's wedding?!" Debbie shouted, glaring at Fiona as she waited for answers.

"Ian doesn't want you at the wedding. Simple as that." Fiona said with a shrug.

"No, fuck that! It's not simple; you made Mickey take the fall for some stupid shit you did, you're selfish, you're petty, you will do anything for attention, and the last time you were around them your daughter pushed Max into the fuckin' Christmas tree." Lip said, not willing to let Debbie ruin this for Mickey and Ian.

"I'm his sister!" Debbie exclaimed, angrily.

"And I'm Mickey's sister! So walk the fuck away, 'cause I'm not as nice as Mickey." Mandy threatened, jumping up and getting as close to Debbie as she physically could. Debbie left without another word-too scared to see if Mandy was bluffing or not-and Lip grabbed his phone to call Ian.

"Little busy, Lip." Ian panted as he answered his phone, body still pressed close to Mickey's where he had the brunette pinned to the wall of their bedroom.

_"Fuckin' gross, Ian! Why the fuck did you even answer the phone if your balls deep?" _Lip asked, clearly annoyed.

"I'm not, yet, so talk fast." Ian ordered, moving his lips back to Mickey's neck.

_"Debbie found out you two are getting married and she's pissed." _Lip rushed out.

"Fuck her; she should've thought about that before she blamed Mickey for her dumbass plan." Ian muttered, nipping at Mickey's throat as he spoke. "Hey!" Ian exclaimed as Mickey snatched the phone out of his hand.

"Let Mandy handle fuckin' Debbie; your brother's busy." Mickey ordered, hanging up before Lip could say another word. "Max is gonna be up in an hour, so get to work."

"As you wish, dear." Ian mumbled, leaning in to connect their lips in a fierce, heated kiss. Debbie was a concern for another day; today, Ian was going to enjoy some time with his fiancè.


	15. The Glass Could Shatter

"This... It actually looks fuckin' nice." Ian muttered, looking around at the unrecognizable dining hall of the Rec center, completely amazed that Fiona and Mandy had managed to make the depressing, lifelessly white room look like an actual wedding venue. Everything from the stylish charcoal gray fabric over the chairs, to the sleek, sophisticated Emerald green ribbon tying them off, the navy blue isle runner, the Hydrangea and Forget-me-nots twisted around the archway over the alter, to the soft, elegant lighting they had managed-with fucking fairy lights, candles on the dining tables, and lanterns framing the isle-and even the black cloth hung up to hide the gaudy doors was perfect.

"Don't look so surprised! We told you this was gonna be perfect for you guys!" Fiona exclaimed, trying to sit still as Mandy tyed her hair back while still looking around the room to see if anything was missing or out of place.

"I'm not... I mean, I _am, _but just 'cause I didn't think this place could ever look like this." Ian said, trying not to allow himself to freak out about the fact that he and Mickey would be getting married in less than an hour. "You two did fuckin' awesome."

"We sure as shit did!" Mandy exclaimed, finally stepping away from Fiona, satisfied that the older woman's hair looked elegant enough for today. "Now, you two go get Ian into his Tux, and I'm gonna go make sure Mickey's gettin' ready." Mandy ordered, shoving Fiona towards Ian before dashing off to find her brother.

"I fuckin' hate this shit." Mickey groaned as Mandy helped him with the stupid fucking bowtie she insisted he had to wear.

"Shut up, you look nice. Doesn't Daddy look pretty, Max?" Mandy asked her nephew as the toddler sat on a bench in the locker room Mickey was getting dressed in, perfectly content to play with some of his toy dinosaurs.

"Yes! Daddy pretty!" Max giggled, looking up at his Carrier father with bright, happy blue eyes. 

"Don't use the damn baby to get your way." Mickey mumbled, checking his hair in the mirror. "Think this is as good as it's gonna get. Come on, Maxy, let's get you into your monkey suit." Mickey said, turning around to scoop his son up off the bench.

"Monmey?" Max asked, clearly wondering why he was going to be dressed up as a Monkey.

"Yep; you gotta be a monkey, Chipmunk." Mickey said, smiling at the sweet, innocent smile his son was sporting. He had been nervous in the days leading up to this, but now? He couldn't imagine his life without Ian in it; after all, Ian was the one who had given Mickey the little boy in his arms.

"Okay. Okay, I'm done." Ian shakily informed his sister, nervously messing with his blue bowtie. "How do I look?" Ian asked, turning around to face Fiona.

"You look so handsome, sweetface." Fiona rasped, tears in her eyes as she looked at her brother. She had known for almost two months that her brother was going to get married, but today? Today made that fact so much more real; the little chubby-cheeked, freckle-faced, wide eyed little boy she had raised was now a man with a child of his own, getting ready to marry the love of his life. 

"You gonna be okay?" Ian asked, moving to place a comforting hand on Fiona's shoulder.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course! Don't worry about me! Today's your day." Fiona said, smiling up at her brother.

"Ready to go, man?" Lip asked, peaking into the locker room to check on his younger brother. "You look good."

"Thanks. Let's get this show on the road." Ian said, smiling broadly as he and Fiona walked towards Lip. He was so ready to marry Mickey, and now he was only minutes away.

Ian felt as if he was going to pass out once he got to the end of the isle, nervously clenching his fists as he watched Amy and Gemma-adorably holding hands as they walked-sprinkling the isle with pale blue flower petals on the darker blue isle runner. Both girls looked beautiful, with Gemma in an Emerald green dress and Amy in an identical Navy blue dress, followed quickly by Ian's son son walking carefully at Fiona's side with a soft, black pillow holding Mickey and Ian's wedding rings clutched tightly in his hands. If Ian wasn't so nervous that Mickey wouldn't show up he would be completely enraptured by how adorable Max looked trying his best to do his job correctly. "Kid looks just like Mickey when he's that serious." Lip whispered to Ian, watching Max as he scrunched his eyebrows and bit his bottom lip.

"He always does." Ian replied, looking up from his son as Mickey began walking down the isle with Mandy on his arm. "Holy shit." Ian rasped out, staring at Mickey with wide eyes. Mickey looked fucking perfect; his black tuxedo fit him like a glove, the Emerald green bowtie stood out strikingly against his pale skin, and his hair was as flawlessly styled as ever.

"Havin' second thoughts, Gallagher?" Mickey asked as he reached Ian, smirking softly as he met the green eyes he'd been in love with for years.

"Fuck no." Ian replied, knowing there was nothing he would rather do than spend the rest of his life with Mickey by his side. Ian was in a haze as Mickey repeated the words the officiant said, just staring at the amazingly gorgeous man in front of him.

"Ian, repeat after me. I, Ian." The offiant said, smiling softly at the redhead.

"I, Ian." Ian repeated, squeezing Mickey's hands a little tighter.

"Take you, Mikhailo." The officiant prompted.

"Take you... Mickey." Ian said, smiling as Mickey realized why Ian hadn't used his full name; Ian had only ever called Mickey "Mikhailo" when he nervously proposed to Mickey, and he wasn't nervous, right now. "To be my lawfully wedded husband." Mickey tried not to let it show that he was off in his own world, but he knew Ian had always been able to see straight through him; knew that Ian was well aware that everyone else had disappeared and become white noise in the background.

"To have, and to hold, in sickness and in health, as long as we both shall live." Somehow, words that couples had repeated to one another millions of times sounded so much more genuine as Ian said them, his eyes never once leaving Mickey's.

"Rings!" Max exclaimed, holding up the small pillow so his fathers could take the silver hands and slip them onto each other's fingers.

"Now?" Ian asked, wanting nothing more than to kiss Mickey.

"Yes, now." The officiant said with a soft laugh, watching fondly as Ian pulled Mickey-pulled _his husband-_into a fierce, but gentle kiss. They did it; they were finally married after years of the world trying to tear them apart.

Mickey didn't want to wake up; he had far too much to drink, the night before, and now he was far too hungover to wake up, despite the soft touches to his face. "Let me sleep, asahole." Mickey mumbled, swatting Ian's hand away from his face.

"You don't wanna spend time with your husband before our son wakes up?" Ian asked, a façade of hurt clear in his voice. "You're a terrible husband; I want a divorce."

"Shut the fuck up, we both know you're not gonna divorce me." Mickey muttered, trying to fight the smile trying to make it's way to his face.

"Maybe not, but you're being mean to me." Ian said, pulling Mickey closer to him.

"Only been married for a day and you're already complainin'." Mickey grumbled, burying his face in Ian's neck. "This gonna be my life?"

"Yep." Ian laughed, kissing Mickey's hair. "Got what I wanted, didn't I?"

"I'm still tryin' to sleep." Mickey mumbled into Ian's neck.

"Got you to cuddle with me." Ian whispered, softly. "Hey, Chipmunk." Ian said, softly, moving just slightly before Mickey felt a small body push it's way under his arm. "Guess he wants to sleep, some more, too."

Despite his husband waking him up, Mickey could think of worse ways to spend his morning than having Max and Ian curled up in bed with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait, guys, but the past moth has been a little chaotic and emotional for my family and I. But I'm back in the swing of things! Leave me some comments to let me know what you thought of this chapter! Much love, beauties!


	16. Set It Ablaze

Even after three months, Debbie couldn't believe Ian hadn't invited her to his wedding. Sure, she'd been the one who came up with the idea to poison Sammi, but what did Ian expect? How the Hell was she supposed to be a part of Derrick's family if she was in jail? It's not like Mickey wouldn't have landed himself in jail, at some point, anyway.

She wanted to hurt Ian; she wanted to make him feel as bad as she'd felt when Ian had gotten married without giving her a chance to be a part of the wedding party. Or without making Franny the flower girl. So, she made a plan. Now she just needed to put it in motion without her loud-mouth siblings getting in her way.

"Are you sure you don't mind watchin' him for a few more hours?" Ian asked Lip as he quickly changed his clothes after work. He'd planned to take Mickey out to dinner to celebrate three months of marriage. The only problem with that, was he needed Lip to watch Max into the evening.

_"You know he's a good kid; it's not gonna be a problem." _Lip replied, knowing Ian and Mickey still needed some time as a couple, despite being parents.

"Okay, okay... Just make sure he eats his vegetables. He'll fight you, but if you tell him little Chipmunks need their vegetables he'll laugh and finally eat them, but you have to let him make "Chipmunk noises" the whole time." Ian explained, having recently found a solution to Max's aversion to vegetables.

_"The fuck are chipmunk noises?" _Lip asked through a laugh.

"I have no idea what noise they actually make, but he makes a growling noise while he eats." Ian replied, wishing he'd worn a thinner shirt as he walked out of the dispatch garage into the mid-June heat.

_"Okay, so my nephew's a monster Chipmunk. Got it. Anything else I should know before dinner?" _Lip asked, realizing that lunch was probably much easier than most meals-given he gave Max a turkey sandwich with cheddar and pickles, grapes, and a glass of milk-and he'd need to know what he'd be dealing with in a few short hours.

"He hates peanut butter, he doesn't drink anything but milk and apple juice, this week, and if you give him some kind of pasta he'll eat everything a lot easier." Ian rambled off, knowing his son was a rather picky eater, right now.

_"Sounds good. I'll call you if he gets tired so he can talk to you and Mick before bed." _Lip promised right as Ian climbed into his car.

"Thanks. I owe you one, man." Ian said, feeling relieved that Max would be well taken care of while his parents were out.

_"Fuck right you do." _Lip laughed before hanging up, leaving Ian alone to drive home.

"So, any reason you kidnapped me for a date?" Mickey asked, staring across the table in the small, dimly lit restaurant. Though he loved getting some time, alone, with Ian, he wasn't sure why Ian wanted to take him out.

"I need a reason to wanna be with my husband?" Ian asked, smiling as Mickey took a drink of his beer. "We got married three months ago, and since we didn't have a honeymoon, I thought we should go on a date to celebrate."

"Hard to believe we already been married for three months... You ready to divorce my ass, yet?" Mickey jokingly asked.

"Absolutely; you're impossible to be with and I can't take it, anymore." Ian joked, right back.

"Damn. Guess I gotta find another hot Ginger to marry, huh?" Mickey asked, causing Ian to choke on his water.

"You're an asshole." Ian laughed, still coughing.

"But you still wanted to marry me." Mickey replied, cockily.

"Wondering why, right now." Ian said, looking down at his menu. "You know what you're gonna get?"

"Probably just gonna go with steak." Mickey replied with a shrug. "What about you?"

"Probably the same as you. But since I actually eat vegetables I'll get a salad." Ian said, knowing Mickey would wrinkle his nose at his choice.

"We don't gotta pretend we like shit like that without the kid." Mickey said, secretly looking forward to a night where he didn't have to eat healthy.

"And you wonder why our son hates vegetables." Ian said, playfully rolling his eyes when he looked back up at his husband. "You look beautiful."

"Fuck off." Mickey scoffed, glancing up to meet Ian's eyes.

"I mean it... You're so beautiful, Mick." Ian said, reaching across the table to take Mickey's hand. "I love you."

"Love you, too." Mickey said, turning his hand over to lace his fingers with Ian's. Fuck it; he was going to enjoy having all of Ian's attention focused on him.

Debbie was about fifty percent sure she had the right car as she approached the front of Ian's apartment complex, spotting a dark colored Pontiac sedan. She smashed the window out of the car, lit the rag in the Molotov cocktail she'd made, tossed it in, and ran off enough to watch the car burst into flames. 'Serves him right.' Debbie thought with a bitter smile as she watched the car burn and the window bust from the heat before running off; no need to stick around until first responders arrived.

"The Hell is that?" Ian mumbled as he drove towards their apartment complex. He could see flashing lights and hear sirens, but he couldn't determine a reason for fire and police to be outside.

"Fuck, do you smell that?!" Mickey exclaimed with a wince as a rancid smell filled their car.

"Tinky, Daddy." Max muttered, covering his tiny nose in his half asleep state. "Ma'e it 'top, Daddy."

"I'm gonna go talk to Miss Ortaga; I can see her standing outside the crazy shit." Ian said, climbing out of the car an making his way over to their elderly neighbor. "Miss Ortaga, do you know what happened, here?"

"Ian, sweetie, it was _awful! _Someone set the the Perkins' car on fire!" Miss Ortaga explained, looking as distraught as the Perkins' must feel. Ian liked Miss Ortaga; she was a kind, gentle older woman who would help anyone who needed it.

"Didn't they just get their car?" Ian asked, feeling even worse after he remembered that the Perkins'-a young, newly wed couple with a four-month-old daughter named Dia-who had scrimped and saved for months to buy a little, dark green 1996 Grand Prix SE.

"Yeah. Poor kids are a mess. Sam said he doesn't have a clue who would do this to them. Willa stayed upstairs with Dia." Miss Ortaga sighed. "You should get Max inside; I doubt he's enjoying this stink."

"Yeah, you're right. If you talk to Sam, can you let him know if he needs any help Mick and I are here?" Ian pleaded, knowing he would hope his neighbors would help him.

'Of course. Have a good night, sweetie." Miss Ortaga said as Ian began walking back to his car to get Max and Mickey now that he knew it was safe for them to go inside. He had no ides why someone would do this to a pair of nineteen-year-olds who were the sweetest kids he'd ever met. He just hoped that Sam and Willa Perkins would be okay, after all of this.


	17. Ashes And Embers

Ian woke up the next morning to a pounding on the front door of the apartment. Seeing that Mickey was still fast asleep, he slowly extracted himself from the smaller man's tight hold and made his way to the front door, completely forgetting he was only in a pair of red boxer briefs until he saw two police officers standing outside. "Can I help you, officers?" Ian questioned, wishing he had gotten dressed. 

"Are you... Ian or Milhailo Gallagher?" The older of the two officers asked, looking at a notepad in his hand.

"Yeah, I'm Ian Gallagher. Is there a problem?" Ian couldn't think of anything that could possibly be wrong; neither he nor Mickey had done anything illegal, Mickey kept up with his PO, and they were friendly enough with their neighbors. Why the Hell would the police be outside his door?

"You own a dark blue 1999 Pontiac Grand Am, correct?" The second officer asked, which had Ian thinking back to where he parked his family's car, last night. Was he parked illegally?

"Yes." Ian replied, blushing when he saw Misses West-a woman in her mid-seventies-walk out of her apartment and look him over. "Would you like to step inside?" Ian asked, politely. Both officers followed Ian into the apartment, seemingly not looking for anything. "Can I ask what's wrong?"

"You're aware of what happened to your neighbors' car, last night, correct?" The first officer asked, watching as Ian grabbed a pair of clean sweat pants off the top of the laundry basket sitting in the living room and slip them on.

"One of my neighbors told me about it, when my husband and I got home, last night." Ian confirmed with a nod, still feeling terrible that something like that had happened to the Perkins'. "Can I ask, what does that have to do with my car?"

"Four different families in this building own Pontiac Sedans, we're just talking to everyone to see if this may have been an attack aimed at someone else who mistakenly burned your neighbors' car." The second officer said, spotting a photo of Max and Mickey hanging on the wall. "How old is your son?"

"He turned two in December." Ian said, wondering how the knock on the door hadn't caused Max-who was a rather light sleeper for a toddler-to wake up.

"So you would have a booster seat instead of a car seat in your car." The first officer surmised.

"Uhm... No; Max-my son-is small for his age, so he's still in a car seat." Ian explained.

"Your neighbors have an infant daughter, so they have a car seat, as well... Mister Gallagher, is there any possibility that this was aimed at you or your husband?" The first officer asked. Ian's snapped in the direction of his bedroom door when he heard it open, seeing Mickey exit the room in one of Ian's t-shirts and a pair of black sweat pants.

"I don't think so; the only person who would want to harm us is in prison." Ian said, watching Mickey as he walked straight to Max's bedroom.

"And who would that be?" The second officer asked.

"My father." Mickey said, walking into the living room with Max in his arms. "He's still got another two years to his sentence, though; aggravated assault." Mickey explained, shifting the tired toddler to his hip.

"Can we get his name to ensure he's still in prison?" The first officer asked Mickey.

"Terry Milkovich." Mickey replied, glancing down at Max as the boy started to fall back asleep against his shoulder.

"Thank you, gentlemen. We'll let you get back to your day." The first officer said before both men left the apartment, leaving Mickey and Ian alone with their son.

"Did Ian tell you about his neighbor's car?" Fiona asked Lip and Mandy as she walked into the kitchen, rushing to get ready for work as she spoke.

"Yeah, Ian called me once they got Max put to bed; said by the time they got back the car was completely destroyed." Lip said, taking his girlfriend's empty bowl with him to the sink.

"Did he say who's car it was?" Mandy asked, having spent the night with Lip.

"The Perkins'; he said they live in the apartment at the far end of the third floor. Why?" Lip asked. Mandy knew the neighbors in her apartment complex, but she wasn't as social as Ian, so she hadn't gotten as close to their neighbors as he had.

"They just got a car... In the dark, it looks _just _like Ian's car." Mandy said, wondering if this had something to do with her brother and brother-in-law rather than Sam and Willa Perkins.

"Terry's still in prison, isn't he?" Lip asked, fairly certain Terry would have torched the apartments instead of the car, but not knowing anyone else who would want to do something like this to Ian or Mickey.

"He _is, _but Debbie knows what Ian's car looks like-Terry doesn't-and she's pissed off that Mickey's out of prison, everyone knows the shit with Sammi was her idea, and that she wasn't invited to the wedding." Mandy pointed out, wondering if Debbie was vindictive enough to set-what she assumed to be-Ian's car on fire.

"I'll call Ian." Lip said, watching Fiona run out of the house-clearly going after Debbie-before dialing the phone.

"Ian? Baby, your phone's ringin'!" Mickey called through the apartment, trying to wrangle Max into a pair of pants so they could get the little boy out of the house for awhile. "You gonna let Daddy put pants on you, Chipmunk?" Mickey asked the giggling toddler as Ian rushed out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist.

"Toos?" Max asked, pointing to his blue and green plaid Chuck Taylor's Ian bought him, a few days earlier.

"Gotta put your pants on, first." Mickey said, trying not to laugh as Max went completely still so Mickey could put his pants on him.

"Make sure she knows if I see her it's not gonna be fuckin' pretty." Ian nearly growled, hanging up his phone before dropping onto the couch with a frustrated sigh.

"What's up?" Mickey asked, trying not to focus on the fact that Ian was still naked.

"Fuckin' Debbie... The stupid, self-centered bitch... I wanna fuckin'... God damn it!" Ian shouted, jumping up and punching a wall, leaving a smear of blood against the light blue paint.

"Ian! Calm the fuck down and tell me what the fuck is goin' on!" Mickey demanded, walking away from Max-who covered his ears as soon as Ian started screaming-to stop Ian from destroying their apartment in a fit of rage.

"Debbie did it! She was tryin' to torch our fuckin' car and she got Sam and Willa's car, by mistake!" Ian shouted, still wanting to hit _something _to get rid of some of the guilt he felt for being-at least somewhat-responsible for the Perkins' losing their car just weeks after buying it.

"Hey! Stop it, Ian! You're scarin' Max!" Mickey demanded, directing Ian's attention to the toddler, sitting on the floor with his hands over his ears.

"Shit... Max, hey... Hey, Papa's sorry, baby boy. It's okay." Ian said, kneeling in front of Max, wishing he hadn't been the reason his little boy was scared.

"Boo-boo." Max sniffed, taking Ian's large, bloody hand in both of his.

"Papa's okay, little guy." Ian said, watching Max as the little boy examined his hand. "Papa's gonna clean it up and he'll be just fine." Ian promised, tapping Max's nose with his free hand to make the boy laugh.

"I'll get the wall." Mickey said, tipping his head in the direction of bathroom. "Come on, Max; we'll go get Papa some band-aids for his boo-boo." Mickey said, moving to help Max into his shoes. "Get dressed when you're done; kid's gonna start gettin' stir-crazy." Mickey ordered, walking over to Ian to place a soft, chaste kiss to his lips before walking out of the apartment with Max in his arms. 

Ian was still furious with his sister, but he wasn't about to show his son this side of him; he _never _wanted to be the reason his son was that scared, ever again. But Debbie? She'd see it, soon enough. What she had done could have burnt their apartment to the ground, along with the car, and the fact that his son could have been hurt just because she was pissed at him wasn't going to be forgiven, easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to get-almost-all of my WIPs done, so I'll be updating pretty regularly. Let me know what you thought of this chapter, guys! Much love!


	18. Sweet Revenge

Debbie was hiding out after she'd seen Fiona speeding up her street, clearly on a warpath. It wasn't like she'd done anything _wrong; _they'd grown up riding the L, and now Ian was too good for it? All she'd done was knock his ass down a peg. Fiona had no reason to be angry, she should be thanking Debbie; after all, he moved out and bought that fucking car, leaving Fiona to shoulder everything, again. But-considering that clearly wasn't the case-she'd continue to hide in the abandoned warehouse a few blocks from her apartment.

"Should we tell the cops?" Fiona asked Ian later that night as the Gallagher siblings-excluding Debbie, of course-sat in Ian and Mickey's apartment with the couple, everyone trying to stay quiet to avoid waking Max-or Liam, who was also asleep in the youngest Gallagher's bedroom-up.

"Probably the best thing we can do, right?" Lip responded, trying not to laugh as Ian rubbed his sore knuckles-covered by multiple Minion bandages that Max kept insisting Ian needed more of before his parents got him to bed-and glared at the offensive, bright adhesive strips.

"Best thing we could do is knock some fuckin' sense into the moron." Ian said, fighting himself to stay in his apartment instead of chasing his younger sister down.

"If we turned her in, who'd take Franny?" Carl asked, knowing Franny was such a nightmare no one in the family could reign her in enough to take the girl in.

"The system, more than likely." Fiona said, completely unfazed.

"The fuckin' system ain't pretty for kids like her." Mickey chimed in, knowing that the Foster Care system was bad enough if you were just an angry, violent child. But when you add in the fact that Franny's spoiled and has never faced consequences for her actions? Franny would be in for a rude awakening.

"What about you two?" Lip asked, knowing that-if anyone was capable of it-Ian and Mickey could get Franny behaving.

"Not sure how well that's gonna work." Mickey said, knowing Ian hadn't told his siblings they were trying to have another child.

"Mick's right; she's already hit Max, once, and she's so spoiled she wouldn't think twice about tryin' to hurt the baby." Ian said, noting how Carl, Lip, and Fiona all stare at him with wide eyes. "Mick's not pregnant, but we're tryin'."

"Probably wouldn't be the best idea for you two to take Franny in, then." Fiona said, trying not to imagine the rage Ian would be in if Franny hurt his child-or children, considering they were trying to have a second child-in his home.

"They couldn't, anyway; Mickey just got outta prison." Mandy said as she walked into the apartment. "Debbie needs to watch her fuckin' back; someone's gonna find out about this shit and won't be fuckin' nice about it." Everyone knew Mandy was right, but they felt that-even at her best-Debbie was an immature child who feels only she was hurt, here.


	19. Take It All Back

"You gonna be good for your Uncle Carl?" Mickey asked, kneeling in front of Max as the little boy colored a picture for his uncle. Mickey liked Carl-he was a nice kid, even if he wasn't the smartest Gallagher sibling-but Mickey was always nervous when Carl watched Max while the boy's parents worked.

"Yes." Max said, looking up at Mickey and holding out a blue crayon to the man. "Color?"

"Daddy can't, right now, baby; I gotta go to work. I'll play with you when I get home, okay?" Mickey promised, pressing a kiss to Max's forehead as he heard Ian answering the door to their apartment.

"'Tay, Daddy." Max agreed, standing up to hug his Carrier father. "Yub you."

"Love you, too." Mickey whispered, standing up to walk out with Ian. "He ate breakfast, so he'll probably just play until his nap." Mickey said, shrugging on his jacket as Ian finished tying his work boots. "He's tryin' to use his potty chair, but he still needs a diaper, most of the time."

"Is he gonna tell me if he needs to use the bathroom?" Carl asked, crouching down as Max darted over to give Carl the picture he'd been coloring. "Wow! This looks awesome, Max!"

"Yay!" Max exclaimed, quickly hugging Ian and kissing his cheek before rushing back over to his coloring book and crayons.

"Usually. Sometimes you gotta ask him, though, if he's playin' or tired." Ian said, stretching as he stood up. "Don't let him drink too much before his nap and it should be fine."

"If you need one of us to come home-" Carl cut Mickey off, already knowing what the older man was going to say.

"I'll call you if I need you, but we all know Max never gives anyone any problems." Carl said, trying to rush the older men out the door. "Now go to work so I can hang out with the only non-boring member of the family."

"Okay, okay! Asshole. Come on, Mick." Ian chuckled, pulling his husband out of the apartment with him.

"I should get off around six if nothin' happens." Ian said as he unbuckled his seatbelt, turning to kiss his husband, softly. "Love you, baby."

"Love you, too. You take your pills?" Mickey asked, knowing the stress of Ian'sn job could easily cause a problem with his disorder.

"Yeah, Max reminded me." Ian chuckled, remembering the toddler calling out "Papa, ta'e me'ccine!" Shortly after breakfast.

"Yeah, that's what happens when people care about your ass." Mickey chastised, leaning in to kiss Ian, again. "Go to work."

"Yes, dear." Ian replied, climbing out of the car to start his day. Though he missed his son and husband during his work day, he was fucking proud that Max would never have to live the way he and Mickey had during their childhood.

Kev tried not to listen-he truly did-but he found himself listening to two young woman-both already drunk when they walked into-sitting at the bar in the Alibi room. "I'm tellin' you! My friend said the youngest Gallagher girl blew up the fuckin' car 'cause she got pissed at her brother-the queer one who married the Milkovich boy-and Sam Perkins' car looks like his!" The older of the two women-a rail thin woman with stringy brown hair and deep, dark circles under her eyes that were clearly only blue from contact lenses and skin that had a strange tint to it that suggested her drinking was starting to effect her liver health-said, laughing as she spoke.

"She never would've got away with that shit if it was true; Sam's Dad is the only guy meaner than Terry Milkovich on the fuckin' Southside!" The second woman-a much prettier, younger, African-American woman with a flawless smile and perfectly styled, natural curls-exclaimed, clearly assuming her friend had made the story up.

"'Cause he's lookin' for her! Vincent's pissed and wants to get back at the little bitch. Sam told 'im to leave her alone-you know Sam, he's a nice kid who don't start no shit-but no way is he gonna let a Gallagher disrespect his family." The first woman said, chugging down the rest of her drink.

"Then why the Hell don't he go after... I think the brother's name is Issac?" The second woman asked her friend.

"'Cause he's a nice kid, too; offered to help Sam and Willa as soon as found out what happened to their car. Sam likes him and the Milkovich kid." The first woman said, actually sounding a bit sad. "He told his Dad to leave them outta this. Hey, Kev! We need more drinks!" Kev nodded and passed them two more drinks, knowing he needed to tell someone in the Gallagher family about Vincent Perkins, but what could they do? The woman was right; Vincent Perkins was a mean son of a bitch, even if he truly cared about his kids more than Terry Milkovich could dream of.

Ian almost felt bad for Debbie when he found out the Sam was related to Vincent Perkins; "Perkins" was such a common last name that the thought hadn't crossed his mind, at all. But now? Ian knew Debbie had fucked herself worse than she ever could've fathomed. He knew she couldn't take back what she'd done, but he could pray-and he really did fucking pray-that Debbie didn't do anything stupid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still trying to update my works in progress, pretty regularly, but my new schedule at work is a lot different and I haven't had a lot of time to update, recently. Leave me some comments to let me know what you thought of this chapter. Much love, and I hope everyone is staying safe.


	20. Hunting Ground

Debbie hadn't told Pippa why she finally decided to sign over custody of Franny, but she was sure Pippa hadn't cared; she'd finally won. It was for the best, anyway; Debbie had lost her job and was evicted from her apartment, so Debbie was currently living in the abandoned building she was hiding in. She still didn't understand why Fiona and the rest of their siblings were so mad about Ian's precious car being gone, but she sure as fuck wasn't about to let them find her. So, she'd keep hiding and wait for this to blow over.

"'Top it!" Max laughed, kicking his little legs as Ian tickled the boy's stomach. Ian fucking lived for the tiny sounds of his son's laughter, and it always made him feel more complete than anything else.

"Stop what?" Ian asked, playfully, watching as his siblings filtered into the living room of the Gallagher house.

"'Top ti'le me!" Max laughed, his little eyes bright as he smile up at Ian.

"You want Papa to stop ticklin' your chubby tummy?" Ian asked, watching his husband as Mickey stood back with Fiona, both watching as Ian picked Max up and sat the boy in his lap, leaning back against the couch and stretching his long legs out on the floor.

"He's gettin' so big." Fiona mused, watching Max attempt to get to Ian's armpit to tickle him.

"Don't think he's gonna get very tall." Mickey said, subconsciously reminding himself to apologize to his son, someday, for the fact that he wasn't as tall as the boy's other father. "I swear, I fuckin' cursed the kid."

"Oh, you _absolutely _cursed him! But that's just 'cause you chose to have him with my Alien lookin' brother!" Lip said, loudly, earning a middle finger from Ian.

"Fuck yourself, Lip; I made a cute fuckin' kid." Ian said, turning Max so the whole room could see the little boy's dimpled smile and vibrant eyes.

"_Mickey _made the kid cute, and we all know it; only things he got from you are freckles and red hair." Lip said with a slight laugh. "Everything else is Mickey."

"You act like that's gonna bother me. My man's fuckin' beautiful." Ian said, winking at his husband, lovingly.

"Daddy p'etty." Max said with a nod, suddenly looking very serious.

"Daddy's _very _pretty, baby boy." Ian agreed, kissing Max's-always messy-red curls. "He's too pretty for Papa, isn't he?"

"Noooo." Max laughed, reaching up to pinch Ian's cheek. "CarCar!" Max screeched, launching himself at Carl when Ian went to tickle him, again.

"Leave Max alone and come outside with me, Red; need a damn smoke." Mickey said, walking towards the front door, waiting for Ian to follow him like giant puppy of a man the redhead was.

"You're doin' pretty good on slowin' down." Ian commented, knowing Mickey was trying very hard to quit smoking before he got pregnant, again. The man had slowly been cutting back on his cigarettes, and was now down to about two a day.

"Hard as fuck, man." Mickey sighed, sitting down on the front steps of the Gallagher house with Ian at his side, enjoying the familiar buzz of nicotine coursing through his system. "Easier than quittin' cold turkey, though."

"I know." Ian replied, lighting his own cigarette as they watched the calm street just past the fence. "I've quit about three times in the past three years, but I never make it longer than two months."

"Think the only reason I managed with Max was that I was fuckin' locked up." Mickey admitted, knowing the stress he was under during his first pregnancy would have made him miss cigarettes, much worse, had he not been in prison.

"I'm sorry." Ian said, wishing he would have been there for Mickey when he was carrying their son.

"Hey, we both know you were in a fucked up place; I don't blame you." Mickey said, turning to face Ian, fully. "You're here, now."

"Not goin' anywhere." Ian promised, leaning forward to connect his lips with Mickey's.

"Hey, Mickey." Ian froze as he heard the familiar voice just past the gate; Vincent Fucking Perkins was right in front of them.

"H-hey, Vince. Heard you and Paula had another Rugrat." Mickey greeted, clearing his throat as he looked at the older man. He knew Vincent was a mean son of a bitch, but-unlike Terry-he didn't give a shit about sexuality and the man fucking _adored _his eight-now nine, Mickey reminded himself-children.

"Finally had another girl; Paula and Millie are fuckin' thrilled." Vincent said with a soft smile. Mickey nodded with a soft smile, though he had been uncomfortable when someone approached him while he was kissing his husband-as much as Mickey loved him, he wasn't big on PDA-Mickey didn't have a problem with Vincent; he'd always seen Vincent's brutality as necessary, and knew that Vincent wasn't going to attack him for being gay. "Millie's always wanted a sister and Paula always thought we'd have a few girls."

"Congrats, man." Mickey said, trying to ignore the way Ian was staring at him. Of course Ian knew about Mickey's past, but he truly didn't know the extent of Mickey's violent history; didn't know that he'd once been the muscle for Vincent Perkins' coke runners.

"Thanks. Heard you had a boy." Vincent said, lighting a cigarette for himself.

"He just turned two in December." Mickey confirmed with a nod.

"Good for you, kid." Vincent said, offering Mickey a smile Ian never would have imagined on the man's face; a smile that seemed... Genuinely kind. "My boy, Sam, said you're a good Dad."

"Tryin' to be." Mickey said, knowing he wasn't a _perfect _father, but he loved Max and tried his hardest to be a good parent to his little boy.

"Better than your Ol' Man could ever say." Vincent said with confidence. "Sorry, kid, I can't keep up with all of Frank's kids' names."

"Ian." Ian supplied, gently.

"Right... Look, I got no fuckin' issue with you or Mickey, but that sister of yours? She's another fuckin' story." Vincent's face lost that kind smile, suddenly turning into the ice-cold demeanor he was known for. "So tell her to watch her fuckin' back, 'cause my kids and my grandbaby? Anyone who fucks with them's gonna regret it." 

"If I knew where to find her, I would." Ian promised, knowing that-even though Debbie had fucked up-he still loved his sister enough to keep her safe.

"Only a matter of time before she scurries outta hidin'; just like Frank." Vincent said before walking back up the street. Though Vincent had been nice enough to Ian and Mickey, Ian feared for Debbie's safety now that he knew, for a fact, Vincent Perkins knew she was the one to blame. He could only hope she was smart enough to lay low.


	21. Karma's A Bitch

_**"Negative." **_The word staring back at Mickey felt as if it were taunting him; mocking him for feeling a trill of excitement at the thought he and Ian may have already conceived their second child. "This shouldn't be so fuckin' hard! We're both healthy, we fuck like rabbits, and I'm still fuckin' young enough that gettin' pregnant shouldn't be a problem." Mickey said, throwing himself down across the bed he shared with his husband. They had been trying for over four months to conceive a child, and so far Ian they were having no luck, at all.

Mickey knew that-logically-four months wasn't a long time to try for a child, but Ian had gotten him pregnant after one round without a condom and birth control, so why was it so hard, now that they were trying for a baby? "We can still keep tryin', Mick." Ian soothed, laying down next to Mickey. "Neither of us is even thirty, yet; we still have plenty of time to have another baby."

"And if it don't happen? We're _ready _for a baby, this time; we're not gonna get fuckin' blindsided by me gettin' knocked up just 'cause I forgot about my damn birth control." Mickey muttered, scrubbing his hands over his face. "Maybe it's fuckin' Karma or somethin'; maybe some fuckin' higher power's punishin' us for Debbie's dumb shit."

"Her shit ain't on us, Mick. Did you ask her to trick her boyfriend into fuckin' her without a condom so she could get pregnant? Or to put all the blame on you for the shit with Sammi? Tell her to try and set our fuckin' car on fire?" Ian asked, rolling onto his side to face his husband.

"It still always ends up comin' back on us, even though it was all her fuckin' choices." Mickey pointed out, staring up at the ceiling.

"She's fuckin' stupid, Mick; she made dumbass choices, and now? She's gotta live with 'em, and we're gonna have another baby. It's just gonna take some time." Ian said, moving swiftly to lay on top of Mickey. "And are you _really _gonna complain about us havin' an excuse to fuck as often as we want?"

"You're a fuckin' idiot." Mickey chuckled, shaking his head, fondly, at his giant dork of a husband.

"You love me." Ian replied, swooping down to kiss Mickey. "Wanna start tryin', again?"

"We gotta be quick; Max wakes up, early." Mickey responded, grinding his hips up against Ian's.

"Dad, come on, Ian's a nice guy! Don't do nothin' to his sister!" Sam exclaimed, following Vincent through the house he'd grown up in, hoping his father would listen and show Debbie Gallagher some mercy. "Our car insurance covered most of it; Willa's goin' with her Dad to look at another car." It was mostly true; their auto insurance _had _covered a good deal of the cost of the car-a black, 1996 Nissan Maxima-that Willa was going to look at, but they would be dipping into their savings for the rest of it.

"What if the fire spread, Sam? What if Willa or Dia got hurt?" Vincent asked, looking at the young man who looked just like a younger version of Vincent, himself; the same light brown hair, light brown eyes, round nose, full lips, and round face. Sam was-without a doubt-the child Vincent was the most proud of, because Sam was nothing short of pure good; he was smart, kind, and would do anything to help other people. In short, despite looking just like his father, Sam was his polar opposite.

"It didn't, though; Dia and Willa are both _fine _and it's just a car! We're gonna be fine, Dad, so please... Don't hurt Debbie." Sam begged, still hoping to keep his father from going after Debbie Gallagher when her brother had been nothing but nice to Sam and Willa; Hell, Ian and his husband had offered to babysit Dia when Sam and Willa had to work overtime shifts, last week, to get the last bit of money they needed to afford their new car.

"Ain't got nothin' to do with Ian or Mickey, Sam, and you know I'm not gonna bother those boys. But Debbie Gallagher? She went too fuckin' far. Even if it wasn't you, she coulda hurt those two and their kid." Vincent said, knowing he was right; Mickey may have been good muscle, as a kid-even if he was short, the boy was fuckin' _strong _and had always been able to hold his own-he always had a softer side that told Vincent he'd be a good parent, someday. He always liked the kid, and he didn't want to see something happen to him just because some immature little girl got her feelings hurt.

"I get that, and... Yeah, I agree; Ian and Mickey don't deserve to get hurt, but... She's Ian's sister. Do you think I'd be okay with someone hurtin' Millie or Tori?" Sam asked his father, reaching over his Mother's shoulder to tap his two-year-old sister's nose.

"This is different, Sam." Vincent sighed.

"Sure it is, but he loves her, just like I love Millie and Tori." Sam said, seeing his father's expression softening. "The Gallagher's are close, just like we are; they care more about each other than anyone else. Ian loves Fiona, Lip, Carl, Liam, and even Debbie as much as I love Millie, Mark, Grant, Joe, Wade, Zach, Cody, and Tori."

"Fuck! Fine. I'll call Grant and Wade off. Happy, now?" Vincent groaned, hating how easily he was swayed by his kids.

"Thanks, Dad... I know you're pissed, but I promise Willa and I are gonna be okay." Sam said, moving to hug his father. Sam knew people saw Vincent as a dangerous, intimidating man, but Sam and his siblings knew differently; they knew their father loved his family and he'd do anything for them. Hopefully that included talking Grant and Wade-his two most violent brothers-out of inflicting pain on someone else.

"It's Dad." Grant said when his phone started to ring.

"Probably just callin' to see if shit's done." Wade said, watching Debbie Gallagher stumble out of the bar across the street. "Ready?"

"Yeah. Drive." Grant readily agreed, watching as Wade slammed the car into Debbie Gallagher and sped away, only seeing her hit the ground through the rearview mirror. "Think it sent a clear enough message?"

"Should've; that Jackson whore got hit harder and lived, so Gallagher's gonna make it and realize she needs to act her fuckin' age." Wade assured his brother, parking far enough away to avoid being spotted, but close enough to still see that Debbie was-in fact-still breathing as the sun began to set in the distance.


	22. Battlefront

"Oh!" Mickey gasped, rolling his hips, expertly as rode Ian on their bedroom floor. _"Fuckfuckfuckfuck FUCK!" _Mickey was suddenly _extremely _happy that Mandy was watching Max, because he was having a hard time containing his noises, tonight.

"Told you I was gonna make you scream, tonight." Ian growled-_actually fucking growled-_in Mickey's ear as he thrust up into the smaller man. "Love it when you get loud, baby."

"Then make me fuckin' scream instead of just talkin'; make it hard to talk, tomorrow." Mickey panted, feeling his orgasm teetering right on the edge.

"Whatever you want, Mick." Ian moaned, quickly flipping his husband onto his back and pounding into Mickey with rough, fast, perfectly angled thrusts.

"Fuck yes! Fuck me, Ian!" Mickey exclaimed, throwing his head back as his nails and heels dug into Ian's back. _"IAN!" _Mickey screamed, his orgasm sending tremors through his body so intense he was sure he'd still be shaking for hours, afterwards. "Fuck yes." Mickey moaned, again as Ian finally allowed himself to cum.

"I don't think we've been able to fuck like that since we lived in your Dad's house." Ian panted, moving to lay down beside Mickey on the floor.

"Man, we _never _got to fuck that loud." Mickey chuckled, feeling pleasantly sore after the most intense sex he'd ever had. "Don't think I ever screamed like that."

"Happy to be of service." Ian hummed, blindly reaching for his phone as it rang from the nightstand. "Yeah?"

_"Ian! I just got a call from the hospital... Debbie got hit by a fuckin' car!" _Fiona shouted, her panicked tone snapping Ian out of his post orgasm haze.

"She... What... Where did... How did she..." Ian couldn't finish a single thought; his sister had been hit by a fucking car! How the Hell had this happened?

_"She was outside some bar in the warehouse district." _Fiona sniffed, angrily. _"She was usin' a fake ID, but the EMTs found her real one in her fuckin' shoe."_

"Fiona, text me when you know what room Debbie's in and we'll be there." Mickey said after snatching Ian's phone out of the shocked redhead's hand. "Yeah, I'm gonna be with him; you know I'm not gonna let shit happen to his ass." Mickey swore to Fiona before hanging up the phone. "We're gonna take a shower, you're gonna take your meds, and I'm gonna drive you to the hospital to check on your sister. Got it?"

Ian shouldn't have felt better having Mickey boss him around during a stressful time, but knowing that Mickey would help him keep his fucking head together? It made Ian feel like everything would turn out okay, in the end.

"Fiona's talkin' to the doctor." Lip explained as Ian and Mickey made their way into the hospital waiting room.

"Who the Hell would believe she was twenty-one to even let her _into _a bar, let alone lettin' her ass leave when she was completely fuckin' plastered?" Carl asked, fidgeting in the seat he was currently occupying. "I looked older than Debbie and no one would by that _I'm _twenty-one."

"So... Is that how it happened? She was shit faced and walked out in front of a car?" Ian questioned, trying to understand exactly what had Carl so confused; Debbie was only eighteen, so _how _had someone believed she was old enough to drink? How had they let her walk out of the bar if she was drunk when she's clearly under age?

"Police said the pick-up was speedin', but that Debbie basically jumped in front of it." Fiona supplied. "That's what everyone told them, at least. Truck was an older model and had no plates, so they can't track it."

"They say what color it was?" Mickey asked, thumbing the side of his nose in a way that Ian was very familiar with; Mickey was pissed.

"Black." Fiona and Lip said in unison, both having been in the room when the officers on the scene asked if they knew anyone with a truck matching the description.

"I'm... Gonna go call Mandy to check on Max. Text me if you hear anything about Debs." Mickey instructed his husband, quickly steering Ian to take a seat beside Carl before dashing off.

"Mickey?" Vincent was shocked to see Mickey Milkovich-Gallagher, his son had reminded him, earlier-standing on his front porch. "What're you doin' here, kid?"

"Wade still drive that piece of shit truck he was so proud of?" Mickey asked, his voice taking on the icy, threatening edge he'd almost forgotten he was capable of before tonight as he spoke.

"I... Yeah. Boy loves that truck. Why?" Vincent asked in response, admittedly already tired; he'd forgotten how hard it was to have a toddler in the house.

"Debbie's a stupid brat-I get it-but... Havin' Wade fuckin' run her ass down?" Mickey questioned, trying not to reach for the cigarette pack in his pocket. "That's a whole new level of fucked up. And considerin' she's my family... You might wanna tell Wade he's gonna have a problem with _me _after this."

"He... Fuck! Stupid fuckin' kid!" Vincent shouted, leading Mickey into the house where Grant and Wade Perkins were both sleeping on the living room floor. "Wade Thomas Perkins! Wake your fuckin' ass up!" Vincent shouted, kicking his son's leg.

"Wh-what's wrong, Dad?" Wade muttered, barely able to keep his eyes open.

"The fuckin' truck?! You hit her with your fuckin' truck, Wade?!" Vincent shouted, knowing that-if Mickey got a hold of Wade-the boy would be in for a lot more than a rude awakening.

"The dumb bitch-" Wade was cut off by Mickey's knee digging into his chest.

"Now, see, you done fucked up, Wade; the Gallaghers? They're my family. And now? You hurt someone in my family. That ain't gonna fly. So, we're gonna make a deal... You're gonna pay every fuckin' penny of the hospital bills, and I won't make you eat your teeth. Deal?" Mickey seethed, knowing Vincent wasn't dumb enough to try and pull a pissed off Mickey off someone.

"I... H-how am I gonna do that?" Wade asked through a pained grunt.

"Figure it the fuck out." Mickey gritted out before standing back up, turning to glare at Vincent. "Keep him in line." With that, Mickey was out the door and driving back towards the hospital. He hoped Debbie would be okay, but-more than anything-that she realized how badly she'd messed up.

"Sorry! I had to run home to get your pills." Mickey lied, easily, passing the pill bottles to Ian.

"I know you went to see Vince... Thanks." Ian whispered, quietly. "She's gonna be okay; the car shattered her hip, broke her left leg, and her right arm, but nothing that won't heal." Ian explained, watching Fiona and Lip walk back into the waiting room as Carl and Liam slept.

"Glad it's not life or death." Mickey replied with a nod, leaning into his husband's side, not really listening to the siblings talking about Debbie as Ian's heart rate finally returned to normal.


	23. I'm A Fuck Up

Hospitals annoyed Debbie; they asked too many questions, let Fiona in the room to lecture her about getting drunk and using a fake ID, and-the worst part-was they told her she had to stay with someone and have a ride home. Fucking perfect. "She can stay with us; we have an extra bedroom and everything is on one floor." Ian suggested, standing in the doorway of Debbie's room with his arms crossed over his chest.

"I could drive her over." Fiona offered, smiling at Ian, politely.

"She'll have a hard time getting into your SUV." Mickey chimed in, helpfully.

"Then how am I gettin' outta here?!" Debbie demanded, bitterly.

"Don't worry about it. Just let Fiona and the nurse help you get dressed. Lip, come help me." Ian instructed, walking out of the room with Lip right behind him and Mickey at his side. Fucking great. She was going to be stuck with them for six fucking weeks.

"You bought another car that looks just like your old one?" Debbie asked as Ian wheeled her out of the hospital.

"Nope. Same car." Ian said, which only told Debbie one thing; she'd fucked up. She hadn't actually destroyed Ian's car, and he had offered to help her to prove that point. What a petty fucking asshole.

"Then where's the car seat?" Debbie asked, hoping Ian was just lying.

"Lip put it in Fiona's car so we could get you in the back seat." Mickey replied, opening the back passenger door to help Ian load her into the car. This was going to be a _long _six weeks.

"Max, stay out here with Daddy!" Debbie heard Ian call out at the door to the bedroom she was in cracked open, slightly. In the three days she'd been staying with her brother, his husband, and their son, she hadn't actually seen the toddler living in the apartment. She'd heard him, plenty of times, but the closest she'd come to seeing him was a sighting of a bright shock of red hair when the door had been open on the first day. "Sorry, he's curious." Ian apologized as he brought Debbie some food and her pain medication, for the afternoon.

"He didn't scream when you told him not to come in here." Debbie noted, glancing past Ian to see Max sitting with his back to the door, animatedly explaining something to Mickey.

"He knows he has to listen to us." Ian said with a shrug. "Vee's gonna be here, later, to help you get cleaned up and into some clean clothes."

"Why did you bring me here? I know you know what I did... So why?" Debbie asked, finally voicing the question that had been in the back of her mind for three days.

"'Cause even though you do shit that pisses me off, you're still my sister and I still love you." Ian explained, calmly. "If Max ever has the chance to help his younger siblings, I want him to take it, even when they drive him crazy."

"Then get him a fuckin' goldfish, don't act like we're close." Debbie replied, bitterly.

"We used to be. And I wanted to get back to that, but... Then I found out about Sammi, Franny hurt Max, and then you were pissed about the wedding and we just... Haven't gotten back there." Ian sighed, running his fingers through his messy red hair. "I love you, Debbie-I really do-and I want us to be close, again. And this? This is me tryin' to make up for bein' an asshole."

"I..." Debbie wasn't sure what to say; Ian was being nice, and he had volunteered to help her when she was hurt. How bad had she fucked up?

"Eat. I'm gonna go play with Max until I have to go to work." Ian said before leaving the room. Debbie just sighed before digging into the bowl of chicken and rice soup Ian had brought her.

"How's it goin' with Debbie in the apartment?" Lip asked Ian as they walked through the Grocery store, roughly a week into Debbie's recovery.

"She's bitter, but I'm not gonna let it get to me." Ian replied, checking over the list Mickey had given him to ensure he wasn't going to forget anything.

<strike> _Milk_ </strike>

<strike> _Oatmeal_ </strike>

<strike> _Green Peppers_ </strike>

<strike> _Red Onions_</strike>

<strike> _Carrots_ </strike>

<strike> _Cherry Tomatoes_ </strike>

_ <strike>Baby Spinach</strike> _

_ <strike>Red Potatoes</strike> _

_ <strike>Chicken breast</strike> _

_ <strike>Apple Juice (NOT THE SHIT THAT'S ALL SUGAR!)</strike> _

_ <strike>Brown Rice</strike> _

_ <strike>Grapes</strike> _

_ <strike>Bread</strike> _

_ <strike>Maple Syrup</strike> _

_ <strike>Cheddar Cheese (YOU ARE NOT FEEDING MY SON THAT FAKE CHEESE SHIT)</strike> _

_Pickles_

_Chocolate Ice Cream_

_Whipped cream_

_BBQ Pringles_

"Is he fuckin' pregnant?" Lip asked as he looked at the bottom portion of Mickey's list.

"If he is we don't know it, yet." Ian chuckled, shaking his head at the juxtaposition between the way Mickey ate and the way he insisted they fed Max. "He wants Max to eat healthier than we did as kids."

"Which explains everything up to the pickles. After that? If Mickey ain't pregnant I'll watch Max every weekend for the next six months." Lip scoffed, reaching for a tub of chocolate ice cream in the freezer.

"If I go home with that Mickey'll have my balls in a box on the nightstand." Ian said, putting back the container of ice cream Lip had placed in the younger Gallagher man's shopping cart and replacing it with the Brownie Batter Core ice cream he knew Mickey loved.

"Man, you are so whipped." Lip chuckled, though he could tell that Ian didn't care; as long as he was with Mickey, Ian would do anything and everything for the brunette man, without blinking. And-honestly-Lip was just happy to see how permanently blissed-out Ian seemed with Mickey and Max in his life. Though he _did _hope Mickey was pregnant, if-for no other reason-it was only because he knew Ian and Mickey were ready to have another baby.


	24. This Is My Moment

_**"Positive!"**_ Mickey felt like he couldn't fucking breathe as he stared down at-not one, but _four_-positive pregnancy tests on the bathroom counter. They'd done it; he and Ian had conceived another baby! They were going to have another child in their lives in a few months, and Mickey couldn't fucking wait to tell his husband. _"Ian! I need another fuckin' pillow!" _Mickey heard Debbie shout from the third bedroom. As much as Ian tried to hide it, Mickey could tell Debbie was working the eldest Gallagher redhead's last nerve.

"Comin'." Ian sighed, absentmindedly reaching out to brush his hand over Mickey's hip as the brunette walked out of the bathroom. Mickey hated that Debbie was being like this with Ian, but he knew Ian would never say anything about it, even after five weeks of her treating him like shit in his own home. Mickey was gritting his teeth the whole time he watched Ian walk into the bedroom, hating the tension in his husband's shoulders as he walked into the room his sister had occupied for five weeks. He was pissed, and he had to find a healthy outlet that _didn't _involve putting his unborn child's health at risk.

"Ian won't let me say shit to her, and it's startin' to drive me fuckin' nuts!" Mickey shouted, pacing the living room of Fiona's house as the woman sat on the couch with Max in her lap. "She treats him like shit in _our home _and he don't want me to say shit 'cause she's still recoverin'!"

"Does he ever say anything to her about it?" Fiona asked, knowing Ian had a bad habit of letting people walk all over him.

"Fuck no; he keeps me and Max away from her ass 'cause if she started her shit on one of us Ian would lose his fuckin' cool." Mickey scoffed, itching for a cigarette.

"Just sayin', I know you well enough to know you ain't gonna let it keep happenin'." Fiona said, softly.

"It's gonna piss Ian off when I say something' to her." Mickey chuckled, knowing that Ian could never stay mad at him for very long.

"He'll get over it. I'll watch baby boy, and you go defend your man." Fiona gently ordered her best friend, knowing Mickey would be out the door in a matter of seconds.

"I'll pick him up in a few hours!" Mickey called out, instantly rushing out the door.

"Your Daddy and Papa are silly." Fiona cooed to the toddler in her lap, secretly proud that Ian had found someone who would do anything for the redhead.

"Hey! Where's Max?" Ian asked as Mickey walked back into the apartment.

"With Fiona. Look, I know you don't care what she says to you, but I fuckin' do." Mickey rushed out, only stopping when he spotted the pregnancy test in Ian's hand. "I was gonna tell you, later." Mickey mumbled, his fury towards Debbie Gallagher momentarily dampened.

"Yeah, I figured... I called Vee while you were gone; she picked Debbie up a few minutes ago. I figured you didn't need her stressin' you out, this early in your pregnancy." Ian explained, moving to wrap his arms around Mickey's waist. "So... Since Max is with his Auntie Fi for a while, you wanna celebrate havin' another baby?"

"What I wanna do is eat while I'm not pukin'." Mickey replied, leaning up to kiss the redhead. "But I can wait a little bit if you make it worth the wait."

"Don't I always?" Ian asked, stealing another kiss away from Mickey before leading him to the bedroom. While Ian loved his sister, he was glad he'd have his home back to normal before their baby arrived. And-while he was almost positive his relationship with Debbie wouldn't be repaired, any time soon-he wanted to enjoy a night alone with his husband.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is the end of this version, so let me know what you've thought of the story, so far. Much love, and I hope everyone is staying safe!


	25. Epilogue

_ **Ten Years Later** _

Ian sighed as he walked through the house, cleaning up used tissues and empty cups his children had left lying around. He loved his three children-he really did-but when all three of them had the flu? Ian could live without that. Mickey's second pregnancy resulted in their nine year old daughter-Harlow Rue Gallagher-and they were surprised two years later when the had their second son-Cian Lawson Gallagher-but by that time they had moved into their house and had plenty of room for their growing family. If only having three young children didn't mean they all tended to get sick, at the same time.

"Papa! Key threw up, again!" Harlow shouted, causing Ian to sigh, again. Yep, he loved them, but today? They were driving him a little crazy.

"I'm comin', Ladybug." Ian said, wishing Mickey would hurry up and get home from work so he wasn't alone with his three little monsters.

"Any word from Debbie?" Mickey asked Fiona as they walked through the store, picking up anything his children would need to get them through the rest of their battle with this year's flu virus.

"Last I heard she got picked up for prostitution." Fiona replied, passing Mickey a six-pack of Gatorade.

"Shit. Again?" Mickey knew Debbie had been into some shady shit since Ian booted her out of their apartment ten years ago, but he hadn't expected her to sell her ass until the first time she'd been picked up for prostitution, six years ago.

"Yeah. Gonna be five years, this time." Fiona said, angrily. "I just don't get it; she got certified as a welder-she was makin' good money doin' it-and she chooses to whore herself out and get arrested."

"Can't make 'em act like an adult." Mickey commented, checking his phone when it chimed in his front pocket.

_Ian (3:45PM): Can you get some more crackers for Key? It's all the kid can keep down, today._

_Mick<3 (3:46PM): Yeah. He takin' his medicine, today?_

_Ian (3:47PM): After the fourth time he hurled. Also, Harlow wants some of the white Gatorade._

_Mick<3 (3:48PM): Already got it. I'll be home, in a few minutes._

"You're right. Hell, Cian acts more like an adult than Debbie and he's only seven!" Fiona laughed, watching Mickey as he looked through the ingredients he'd need to make his children some chicken and wild rice soup. "You're the only parent I know who don't just heat up canned soup when your kids get sick."

"Max says the Canned shit tastes like metal, Harlow get sicker when she eats it 'cause of the Sodium, and Cian's too picky of an eater." Mickey said, cringing at the memory of Harlow spending a whole night clinging to Ian when the high amount of Sodium in the canned soup made her feel even worse.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just make sure your best friend gets some of the soup." Fiona chuckled, affectionately. "Let's get this shit home to the babies."

"You hear Debbie's back in the can?" Mickey asked Ian as they cleaned the living room after they finally got their children to bed. Cian had been clingy with Mickey once the older brunette got home-which didn't surprise Ian, seeing as Cian had always been a "Daddy's brat"-and Harlow wanted to be carried around the house until she fell asleep, but Max-always their easy child-simply wanted to curl up on the couch with the family's two dogs, Hyde and Jake.

"Lip said she got picked up outside the same bar." A month after Debbie had left Ian and Mickey's apartment, the couple found out Debbie had the same effect on older women that Ian had on older men, and was using it to her advantage by getting them to pay for her time and to warm their beds. She'd been at the bar the day she was hit to meet her "clients" and had since been arrested there twice for prostitution.

"She's a dumbass, man." Mickey scoffed, placing Harlow and Cian's favorite blankets in the washer.

"Always has been, but we used to think it was youthful innocence." Ian said, taking Max's Avengers blanket out of the dryer and folding it.

"Now it's just sad; even Fiona says Key acts more grown up than her." Mickey said, looking around the first floor of their house to see if anything else needed to be done, tonight.

"Yeah, well, we make them listen... Okay, sure, Harlow doesn't always listen to us, but she knows when she don't her little ass is in trouble." Ian stated, knowingly. Max had always been their perfectly well-behaved child, Harlow was their wild child, and Cian was their little sweetheart.

"If she _ever _starts actin' like Debbie? We're gonna bust her ass." Mickey declared, turning when he heard a tiny sniffle. "Hey, baby." Mickey said, softly, crouching down when Cian walked towards him. "What's wrong?"

"I'm thirsty." Cian rasped, his poor little throat irritated from vomiting and crying. "Can you hold me?"

"Yeah, baby. Up we go." Mickey whispered, slowly lifting his youngest son and perching the boy on his hip. "Let's get you some juice and back to bed." Mickey said, kissing Cian's fevered forehead. Ian watched his son-the perfect little copy of Mickey, aside from his green eyes-curl up to Mickey, seeking comfort from his Carrier parent, and Ian knew that he'd been right to go after Mickey, eleven years ago; knew that-even with a house full of sick kids-he could never be happier than he was with Mickey.


End file.
